Necessary Monsters
by juniperwindsong
Summary: "Her scent, her arms around him, her body pressed up against his, all confirm for Felix Rosier what he's suspected for the past year: he's in love with the Hogwarts Cursebreaker." A HPHM era romance set against a backdrop of dragons and curses. Sequel to Dragonology 101.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is the sequel to my story, Dragonology 101, a Felix Rosier x MC fic that was 9/10ths dragons and 1/10th romance. This story will reverse that ratio. It should be understandable without reading the first, although you might miss a few references. It starts at the end of MC's 6th year and continues post-Hogwarts, making some plot points obviously "beyond canon" since those storylines haven't been released, so if some references to the cursed vault storyline seem vague, it's just me trying to keep it from being too AU.  
Updates are weekly, and chapter count, while subject to change as I edit, currently stands at 16. Enjoy! (and let me know if you do)

* * *

_Summary: His first instinct is to pull her flush against him, and his second is to push her away to disguise his desire for the first. Neither seem appropriate for the setting and Felix settles for reaching a single arm around her to pat her back carefully._

* * *

No one at Hogwarts, staff or student, can remember a more heated build-up to the Quidditch Cup. The final match may be between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but the tension has set the entire school on edge. Even the professors are playing sides. McGonagall has neglected to assign homework to Gryffindor the week leading up to the match, and there's a rumour Snape has excused the Slytherin team from Potions classes to fit in extra, secret trainings.

When the long-anticipated day finally arrives, students begin filing into the stands before breakfast to ensure they have decent seats, and by mid-morning there isn't an empty space anywhere. The stadium itself seems to vibrate with the collective anticipation.

It does not escape the notice of the more observant older students that the spectators appear to be evenly divided into crowds of red and green. Some people sport both colours simultaneously. A match like this would usually show the rest of the school united against Slytherin, the seats filled with red and gold and roaring lions. But enthusiasm for Slytherin is at an all-time high. Its Quidditch team is enjoying a popularity the house has not seen since before the first Wizarding War. For once, the palpable tension has little to do with which houses are playing and more to do with the players themselves.

Because it isn't just Gryffindor versus Slytherin, it's Weasley versus Windsong.

Both sixth years and captains of their respective teams. The former commonly believed to be the best Seeker ever trained at Hogwarts and the latter famous for her aerial acrobatics and ability to play any position with ease. Efforts by the opposite houses to knock each out of the running has forced both to travel with an entourage for the last month. An entourage that more often than not includes each other as it's a well-known fact that Charlie Weasley and Juniper Windsong are not only Quidditch rivals, but close friends.

The teams walk onto the pitch to tumultuous applause, and the two captains face each other on either side of Madam Hooch. They're surprisingly close in height. The grins they flash at each other, hidden from most of the surrounding Quidditch fans, are genuine, if competitive. They shake hands, and the teams mount their brooms. The sound of Madam Hooch's whistle is drowned out by the roar of the crowd as the players soar into the air.

The game begins, and Felix Rosier isn't sure he's ever been so nervous in his life. Which is ridiculous, he tells himself. He's faced down furious, fire-breathing dragons; why on earth should something as silly as a school Quidditch game have his heart thumping violently in his chest?

He grips his knees tightly as he watches the Slytherin Chaser identified as Skye Parkin by Quidditch Commentator Murphy McNully tear off down the field with the Quaffle. She performs a complicated little flying manouevre that confuses the Gryffindor Keeper and earns the first goal of the game. The stands erupt. Felix realizes he's dizzy from holding his breath. He exhales forcefully and reminds himself that he's not invested in the outcome of this match.

"Relax, friend, what will happen will happen. What can we add to the match by worrying?"

Felix cuts his eyes across to the young man next to him. It's been a few years, but he recognizes the disheveled hair and unshaven chin of recently graduated Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Orion Amari.

"I'm not worried," Felix insists.

Orion nods. "A healthy perspective."

The crowd roars again as Skye Parkin approaches the Gryffindor goal posts at break-neck speed. Murphy McNully's magically amplified voice carries smoothly across the noise.

_And will we see a second Slytherin goal in as many minutes? Parkin shoots and - No! Blocked by brand new Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Wood! _

"The new Gryffindor Keeper is well balanced, is he not? Skye will have to alter her tactics to get past him," comments Orion sagely.

Felix merely grunts in response. His focus is on the pitch, though his eyes aren't following the progress of the Quaffle.

"You are Felix Rosier, aren't you? Slytherin's prefect from a few years ago?" Orion asks.

Felix gives a short nod.

"I heard you were in Romania studying dragons now?"

"Peru," corrects Felix tersely.

"Ah." Curiousity peeks through Orion's unflappable veneer. "You know, I cannot remember ever seeing you at a Quidditch match before. Even when you were at school."

Of course, Felix thinks, it would be just his luck to be stuck beside the one person in the entire stadium more interested in a conversation than the game.

"I never cared much for Quidditch. Waste of time, really," he says brusquely, hoping the former Captain will be offended enough to stop talking to him. But Orion merely nods again, face impassive.

"Everyone is entitled to their opinion. Although, yours makes it all the more unusual for you to be here."

Felix sighs. "It's an important match for... Slytherin," he says, before turning on Orion abruptly. "You've graduated as well, Amari. What are you doing here?"

"Showing support to my Quidditch family, of course," Orion replies. "We may graduate from school but we never graduate from our friends." He turns to inspect the progress of the game. "And, as you said, it is an important match. Especially for the new Slytherin captain."

Felix's heart leaps, but, before he can respond, the people around them are on their feet. McNully's commentary can just be heard above the renewed screams of excitement.

_And Weasley dives! Is that the Snitch there on the ground? Could this match be over before it truly begins?_

Everyone in the stadium, Orion included, is watching Charlie Weasley dive toward the grass below. Everyone except Felix, who closes his eyes, too nervous to look. One shaky breath, then two. The spectators burst into a mix of delighted cheers and disappointed cries.

_ Foiled! By the brilliant beating of Windsong and Lee!_

At the sound of her name, Felix's eyes open. Just in time to catch a glimpse of Juniper Windsong swooping by the stands where Felix sits, as she takes a victory lap around the stadium. Felix's stomach does a pleasant flip, and he has to fight to keep his face straight.

Everything from Juniper's wide grin to her perfect posture is exceptionally confident as she controls her Comet 260 with only her knees, both hands wielding her Beater's club. Squinting, Felix can just see Barnaby Lee opposite her across the pitch. Together, the two of them keep possession of a Bludger, hitting it back and forth to each other rapidly. Then, with a casual-looking flick of her wrist, Juniper sends it hurtling toward an unlucky Gryffindor Chaser. The Chaser dives out of the way of the Bludger, leaving the path to the goal posts wide open for Skye Parkin to score again.

"They make quite the team, do they not?"

Felix can just hear Orion's voice under the cheers and applause. He purses his lips tightly, but Orion continues as though he hasn't noticed.

"Such an easy rapport. It is indicative of true harmony both on and off the pitch. Perhaps more teams should consider choosing Beaters who are romantically involved."

"They're not romantically involved," corrects Felix hotly. "Not anymore. They broke up last summer. They haven't been together all year."

"Interesting," Amari murmurs. Felix feels the younger man's eyes on him, but he keeps his gaze steadfastly forward.

The Slytherin Chasers make their way up the pitch in possession of the Quaffle. Felix recognises Skye Parkin's attempt to set up some sort of Quidditch play. He isn't sure of its name or its purpose, but he feels certain it does not involve a second Slytherin Chaser snatching the Quaffle away from Skye at the last minute causing a scuffle in mid-air. A Gryffindor Chaser nearby takes advantage of the confusion and swoops down on them from above. The Chaser nicks the Quaffle and tanks off down the pitch before Skye can gather herself. The red and gold waves in the stands stamp their approval.

Orion shakes his head. "That Chaser is not working in harmony with his fellow players."

Felix's eyes narrow at the offending Chaser. "That's Marcus Flint. He's been driving Windsong mad all year. Doesn't want to take orders from a girl, apparently."

Madam Hooch's whistle rings through the Stadium calling for time out. Juniper Windsong and Skye Parkin land hard near the Slytherin goal posts, Skye ranting at the captain before her feet are even on the ground. Felix is too far away to hear any words, but it's obvious from Skye's wild gesticulations toward Marcus Flint, who has landed nearby, what the conversation concerns. Felix's jaw begins to ache, and he realizes he's been gritting his teeth.

"You know quite a bit about the inner workings of the team for someone who does not care for Quidditch," observes Orion, watching Felix instead of the players on the ground.

Distracted by the sight of Juniper now berating the sullen looking Flint, Felix answers, "Juniper mentioned him." without thinking.

"I see," Orion says. "I did not know you were so close with our resident cursebreaker."

"We...write," Felix answers, his cheeks reddening in spite of himself.

"Peru is a long way to come to support a pen friend." Orion's tone is unassuming, but the heat continues to spread down Felix's collar.

"I happened to be in the country," says Felix defensively. "And, as she mentioned being nervous about the game and I had some time on my hands, I thought I'd stop by. That's all."

Orion makes no further comment as the Slytherin players return to the air. Felix steals a quick glance at his pocket watch, fervently hoping the match will not last much longer.

His hopes are dashed when nearly an hour passes. Slytherin remains in possession of the Quaffle almost the entire time. Felix is grudgingly impressed by Skye Parkin's performance. She whips between the Gryffindor players as easily as if they were training dummies, although Flint continues to be a thorn in her side. Juniper is forced to fly between them more than once to stop their in-fighting.

Usually Felix would be bored to tears by now, but he can't keep his eyes off Juniper as she flies expertly about the pitch. The way she manages to keep track of the entire game at once, occasionally calling out plays or advice to her team, all while flicking Bludgers at the Gryffindor seeker is fascinating to him. Felix knows admittedly little about Quidditch strategy, but even he can see Juniper's goal is to prevent the Weasley boy from catching the Snitch at all costs. She and Barnaby Lee shadow the fiery red-head about the pitch. No matter how fast he flies, the Gryffindor Seeker cannot seem to shake the Slytherin Beaters.

The fourth time Charlie Weasley spots the Snitch, the little gold ball is fluttering near the same stands in which Felix and Orion sit. Felix has a perfect view of Juniper as she bats a Bludger directly at Charlie's outstretched hand. In the split second he withdraws to avoid breaking any fingers, the Snitch disappears. Juniper grins cheekily at the furious Seeker, and Felix's stomach somersaults again.

_Well folks, we're an hour in, and the score stands at 160 points to 40 for Slytherin! Seems like Gryffindor's usual strategy of relying on a quick win by Weasley just isn't working for them this time!_ Felix can detect a note of glee in McNully's commentary.

Tensions in the air have reached a fever pitch, and Felix has to stop himself from wringing his hands visibly in his lap. Marcus Flint seems to have elected himself Slytherin's enforcer. He abandons any attempts to score in favor of knocking into Gryffindor players who fly too close to Skye Parkin. The third time he does this, the unfortunate Gryffindor Chaser nearly falls from her broom, and Madam Hooch calls a foul. Felix watches Juniper fly right up next to Flint, grabbing his Quidditch robes by the collar and speaking fiercely into his face. Felix wishes he were close enough to hear what she's saying. He can guess, from the way Flint yanks his robes out of her grasp and flies off angrily, it isn't encouragement. Felix runs his fingers through his hair nervously.

Play resumes as the Gryffindor Chaser shoots a penalty shot and scores. The cheers from the crowd have only just begun when a collective gasp ripples through them. Charlie Weasley rockets upward, lying flat against his broom for extra speed. At the far end of the pitch, Juniper hits one Bludger and then the other frantically at the Seeker who manages to dodge both.

"It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter," Felix mumbles under his breath as Weasley stretches his arm above his head, fumbling for the tiny gold ball.

Out of nowhere, Marcus Flint smashes into the Gryffindor Seeker's side, knocking him from his broom entirely. Weasley doesn't fall far before his arm is caught by a teammate, but the Gryffindor fans in the audience howl in outrage.

_ Foul by Slytherin Chaser Flint! There's Madam Hooch's whistle and it's a penalty shot for Gryffindor - but wait! Looks like Slytherin Captain Windsong has called for time-out. _

The green-clad players swoop toward the ground. Felix watches Juniper stalk over to Flint, anger in her every movement. In spite of the distance between them, Felix fancies he can hear Juniper shouting at the rogue Chaser, who bellows right back. Flint is a good head taller than his Captain, and broader as well, but Juniper squares up against him undaunted. She points a furious finger across the pitch to the changing rooms. Flint shakes his head, lips moving rapidly. Their argument lasts one tense minute before Flint, snarling, shoves Juniper away from him, hard.

Felix is on his feet without realizing, blood pounding in his ears. He's not alone. The stadium around him appears to have exploded. Down on the grass, Barnaby Lee and another Slytherin player drag Flint away from Juniper, now restraining a shrieking Skye Parkin. Some primal instinct orders Felix to get to the pitch to assist. The fact that there's nothing he can do has no bearing whatsoever. It takes all the self-control he possesses to force himself to return to his seat.

Madam Hooch lands in the middle of the fight, blowing madly on her whistle. Felix's eyes widen as he recognises Snape crossing the pitch toward the scuffling team, as well. There's a few minutes heated discourse between the Slytherin Head of House and the Slytherin Quidditch Captain before Juniper breaks away, breathing hard. She holds a swift, secret conversation with Skye, their heads bent close together. Then she hands her Beater's bat to Madam Hooch and signals to her team to remount their brooms. All except Flint. Felix watches, mouth hanging slightly open, as Snape escorts the furiously railing Slytherin boy back across the pitch and into the changing rooms.

_ And it looks like Windsong has booted Marcus Flint from the Slytherin team and is taking his place as Chaser! Slytherin will now be one player short for the most critical match of the entire year! A bold move for the new captain._

"Can she do that?" Felix asks, stunned, as the team waits for Madam Hooch's whistle to resume play.

"If she has done it, then it can be done," answers Orion mystically.

Felix brings a hand up to trace the long scar that runs down the side of his neck. He feels ridiculously helpless. He wishes vainly that he had never come to the match. If he'd had any idea how stressful Quidditch could be, he would simply have caught up with Juniper afterwards, and spared himself this torment.

The game begins again in earnest, and if Slytherin had a monopoly on the Quaffle before, it's nothing compared to now. Between Skye and Juniper, the Gryffindor Chasers barely have a glimpse of the ball. Slytherin gains another 30 points in less than ten minutes.

_ And Slytherin is now up by enough to win the match even with a Gryffindor Snitch capture! One has to wonder how this will affect Weasley's strategy..._

It's obvious even to Felix that the Gryffindor Seeker has slowed his incessant circling of the pitch. Presumably, he's waiting until the Chasers score more points, but it seems unlikely Gryffindor will ever catch up. While Oliver Wood manages to save about one in three shots at the goal posts, the Gryffindor Chasers cannot manage to wrest the Quaffle from Skye and Juniper. Although, Felix thinks he can detect a slight lag in the Slytherin Chasers' movements. He wonders if the lengthy game hasn't begun to tire them.

At 300 points up for Slytherin, the spectators begin to be restless. The buzz of scattered conversations can be heard amid the regular cheers.

"Is this a typical length for a Quidditch game?" Felix directs the question at Orion, and the young man gives his enigmatic smile.

"There is nothing typical about a Quidditch match. Each is unique," he replies knowingly, before adding: "This one is rather long, though."

Sudden shouts in the crowd around him cause Felix to look up. He's in time to see Weasley dive once more, just in front of his stand. As Felix watches, Barnaby Lee zooms forward, Beater's bat poised to aim a passing Bludger at the Seeker. A shrill whistle distracts the Beater before he can execute his attack. Half the players on the pitch, and Felix in the stands, follow the source of the noise to the Slytherin Captain. Juniper hovers near the Slytherin goal posts, shaking her head frantically at Barnaby.

Felix furrows his brow, confused. "What, does she want Weasley to catch it?" he asks incredulously.

Orion's smile evolves into something less mysterious and more genuine. "Charlie Weasley is a good friend of Juniper's. Perhaps, she wants his team to lose with dignity."

Felix's face twists in distaste. "Or perhaps she just wants the game to be over," he argues, as Charlie snatches the golden blur hovering just above the ground.

"That too," Orion agrees, and the stadium around them erupts.

Supporters of both sides are screaming and crying. Felix finds himself on his feet with everyone else, caught up in the wave of adoring Quidditch fans applauding uproariously. He watches the Slytherin team hit the ground, brooms forgotten as they reach for each other in a giant, scrum-like embrace. Felix realizes the back of his robes are soaked through with sweat. It's as though he too has been flying nonstop for over an hour.

Students swarm from the stands like locusts to surround the new Hogwarts Quidditch champions. Felix is just considering whether or not to attempt pushing through them when he catches sight of one lone, green-clad figure moving against the crowd. Juniper forces her way through the ecstatic Slytherins supporters to the end of the pitch where the Gryffindor team has landed. Charlie Weasley's bright red hair is visible even from high in the stands. Felix can make out the Gryffindor's reluctant grin as he extends a hand toward the approaching Slytherin. Juniper ignores it. She pulls the short, stocky boy into a tight hug, and Felix's stomach, writhing nearly non-stop for the entire match, suddenly turns to lead.

Beside him, Orion says into his ear, "So, what do you think of Quidditch now?"

Felix scowls, unable to rip his eyes away from the spectacle below him.

"Absolutely pointless," he grumbles.

* * *

In spite of her scene on the pitch and its obvious implications, Felix decides it would be a phenomenal waste of time to have endured such a painfully long match without seeing Juniper after all, so he joins the throng traipsing from the Quidditch Pitch to the Hogwarts' dungeons. Although it has been a few years, Felix is sure he's never seen the Slytherin common room so crowded. It's impossible to see to the wall opposite, the room is so tightly packed with cheering, jumping bodies. He's certain there aren't this many people in the whole of Slytherin house. Sure enough, Felix catches a glimpse of Penny Haywood and another Hufflepuff girl with spiky pink hair passing out Butterbeers and talking animatedly.

"What in Merlin's name are Hufflepuffs doing here?" Felix mutters to no one in particular.

"Quidditch has a way of bringing people together." Felix rolls his eyes hugely as he recognizes Orion's mellow voice from beside his shoulder. "As does Juniper Windsong."

Felix bristles but says nothing. It's true, Juniper's friend group has always been diverse. It's a trait he usually admires in her, but Felix isn't well-disposed to her inter-house friendships just at present. He has only a moment to brood over this, however, before enormous arms grab him from behind and lift him off his feet.

"Felix!"

He recognises the enthusiastic voice of Barnaby Lee. The muscular boy gives Felix another hard squeeze before lowering him back to the floor.

"Nice to see you too, Barnaby," Felix gasps, winded by the rib-crushing hug. He straightens his robes and glances around self-consciously. Quidditch team members are filing in behind Barnaby, and Felix's heart skips a beat as the crowd around them gives an enormous cheer. But it's only Skye Parkin entering the common room with the Quidditch Cup held above her head.

"What are you doing here?" asks Barnaby excitedly. "I didn't know you were back from Plymouth!"

"Peru," Felix corrects, attempting to casually scan the crowd behind Barnaby. "And yes, I arrived today."

"Just to see us play?"

Felix fixes his gaze on the extremely tall, well-built young man in front of him. Barnaby has grown-up significantly since the last time Felix saw him, but he hasn't lost any of his boyish good-looks. Felix recalls Orion's comments about Barnaby and Juniper from the Quidditch match, and his already bad mood continues to sour.

"No, of course not," he replies curtly. "I've applied for a transfer to the Romanian Reserve. My interview is next week."

"Wow! That's amazing!" Barnaby's face is full of awe, which soothes Felix's temper very slightly. "But... how did you know we had a match today?"

Felix repeats his now practiced excuse. "Juniper mentioned it in her last letter, and, as I was in the country in time, I thought I'd drop by."

"So, she doesn't know you're here? C'mon, she'll be so excited to see you!" Barnaby grabs Felix by the wrist before he can reply and wades into the sea of bodies, pulling the former prefect in his wake. Felix is careful to stand as close to Barnaby as possible to keep himself from being swallowed by the crowd. He isn't usually bothered by cramped spaces. He's spent the last three years in a variety of tight quarters. But something about the heat and noise and sweat from the excited bodies around him makes him feel dizzy. He closes his eyes, allowing Barnaby to drag him forward, and so he hears Juniper before he sees her.

"Look, I warned him all year. If he wasn't going to be a team player then he wasn't going to play on the team."

Felix's eyes snap open automatically. A cluster of people in festive green face-paint block his view, many of them busy loudly protesting Juniper's words.

"Weasley would have caught that snitch without Marcus! He saved the game!" says one petulant voice.

"That's how Slytherin plays! It's about doing anything to win!" insists another.

All pretense of nonchalance abandoned, Felix cranes his neck over Barnaby's shoulder. He's just able to glimpse the back of Juniper's head. Her hair falls in waves, much longer and more kempt than he remembers.

"Look, no one wants to win more than I do!" she argues, and Felix swears he can actually _hear _her smile. "Well, except maybe Skye."

There's an outburst of appreciative laughter from her audience.

"But cheating is a cop-out," Juniper continues. "It means someone else is really better than me and I couldn't beat them on my own. I told Flint, I wanted us to win because we were the best or die trying, but cheating to make that happen is just the same as losing."

"Yeah, and it's nothing to do with the fact that it's _Weasley _he knocked about," says a sly voice from somewhere in the crowd.

The outcry around her is divided into loud cheers and raucous laughter, but Barnaby's voice cuts through them.

"Juniper! Juniper, look who's here!"

Barnaby steps aside just as Juniper's head whips around. Her eyes widen in recognition as they fall upon Felix. He has a split second to worry whether he should keep his face neutral or attempt a smile, before she flings her arms around his neck, dragging him into an eager embrace. Felix's first instinct is to pull her flush against him, and his second is to push her away to disguise his desire for the first. Neither seem appropriate for the setting. He settles for reaching a single arm around her to pat her back carefully.

Juniper pulls away, leaving her hands resting on his shoulders. She's grown quite a bit if she can look him in the eye while doing that.

"You're here! I can't believe you're here!" she babbles excitedly, her face transported by her wide smile. She laughs giddily and hugs him again, and as Felix inhales that familiar aroma of lavender and something else he can't identify, all his ill-feeling evaporates.

However entangled she may be with anyone else, Barnaby Lee or Charlie Weasley, it's suddenly as meaningless to him as Quidditch. Her scent, her arms around him, her body pressed up against his, all confirm for Felix what he's suspected for the past year: he's in love with Juniper Windsong. And he's come back to Hogwarts with the express purpose of telling her so.


	2. Chapter 2

_Summary: There's a slight flush suffusing her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink that Felix finds intensely appealing, and it's almost impossible to keep a triumphant grin from overwhelming his face. He leans forward to brush a small strand of hair out of her face with his free hand, tucking it behind her ear and he can hear her breath catch._

* * *

This is not at all how the evening is supposed to go.

In his fantasies of their reunion, Felix has envisioned himself at Juniper's side, regaling her with tales of tracking Peruvian Vipertooths in the wild, roughing it in tents for months on end, wrestling with the dragon that left the long, thin scratch down the side of his neck. He's pictured exactly how her eyes will look, wide and riveted to him, as he talks casually about his near-death experiences. To be the center of her undivided attention, that's the feeling he's craved for almost a year now. And he's gone to all the trouble of finishing up in Peru in time to endure a ridiculously stressful Quidditch game, not to mention the loud and over-crowded after-party, all to bring his fantasy to life.

Instead, Felix is left sulking on the sofa nearest the fire place, watching as Juniper chats with a crowd of Quidditch enthusiasts, her eyes on Orion Amari as he waxes philosophical. She leans comfortably against the wall beside the common room's stately grandfather clock. Her lips quirk in the slightest of entertained grins as she lifts her bottle of Butterbeer to her mouth and takes a sip. She's positively glowing, the happiness coming off her in waves that bolster the spirits of her surrounding admirers.

Felix is in despair.

It's not as though he hasn't considered worst-case scenarios: that Juniper might prefer to think of him as a sort of surrogate brother, or feel dating him to be a betrayal of Barnaby, her ex and his friend, or, the most horrid of notions, that she might even have feelings for someone else. All these possibilities he's come to terms with, prepared counter arguments for. It's simply never occurred to Felix he might have any sort of competition.

What began as an embarrassing flight of fancy three years ago has, through their consistent correspondence, evolved into something more, and Felix has finally accepted that the girl he's come to know so well through letters is not only worthy of his affection but might be the only one capable of inspiring it. Now, he realizes he has still been picturing the awkward young teenager he spent so much time with his last year at Hogwarts, with baggy jumpers and unkempt hair and nothing to recommend her to anyone. This young woman, laughing and chatting easily with the people around her, is poised and confident. She has accomplished things, proven her worth, grown into herself. And he isn't the only one who's noticed.

Felix catches Barnaby staring at her, adoration practically oozing from his eyes and lips. Murphy McNully hasn't been more than his chair's width away from her at any given moment the entire evening, following her everywhere she goes, talking a hundred words a minute. And no matter how hard he tries, Felix cannot shake from his mind that awful image of Juniper grabbing Charlie Weasley around the neck.

He scowls into his drink. He isn't prepared for this, and one thing he's learned from years of dealing with dragons is you're always more likely to lose a fight with one when you're on the back foot. It's better to leave it and try again when you have the advantage.

Felix stands reluctantly, debating whether to say goodbye or simply disappear. He casts a last look toward the grandfather clock where Juniper and her friends have congregated, only to discover she isn't there anymore. A few Slytherin students covered in green face paint remain, re-enacting their favorite moments from the match, but Orion Amari and Murphy McNully have disappeared as well. Felix's stomach gives a violent lurch as he considers what this might mean.

A hand on his shoulder causes Felix to jump. He turns to find Juniper, perched on the back of the sofa, smiling face startling close to his own. Her touch is light, but Felix is as incapable of movement as if her grip were iron.

"Have you been over here this whole time? I've been looking for you," Juniper says brightly, eyes peering directly into his. Her eyelashes are darker than he remembers, and he wonders if she's wearing makeup or if that's just something that happens to girls as they get older.

Felix takes a shaky breath, trying to arrange his face into a cool, unconcerned expression.

"Well, you've had quite the crowd of fans, it's no wonder you couldn't see." He tears his eyes from hers to survey the room. "Where is McNully, by the way, I thought he'd glued you to his chair with a permanent sticking charm."

"It's getting late. I had to kick all the non-Slytherins out* before the other prefects cotton on and come looking."

"Yes, an inter-house after-party. I was shocked," Felix comments mildly. He re-seats himself with his back to the fireplace so he can face Juniper, who throws her legs over the side of the sofa and slides down next to him.

"I'm quite proud actually," she says, and she sounds it. "Anyone can celebrate a win, but to get your competition to celebrate your win?" She grins and lifts her Butterbeer in a toast to herself. "That's talent."

Felix smiles in spite of himself and tilts his own bottle at her in salute.

"Yes, you are clearly talented."

They drink in silence for a moment, and Felix casts his eyes around, trying to distract himself from the acute awareness of her knees so close to his they're nearly touching. Students are still scattered throughout the common room, but it's now mostly smaller groups engaged in private discussions. He notices it's far less noisy than it was an hour ago.

"So," says Juniper, propping her arm up on the back of the sofa and resting her head against her hand. "What are you really doing here?"

Felix's attention is dragged back to the girl across from him, and his heartbeat quickens.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you hate Quidditch. You can't expect me to believe you came all this way just to see the match."

Felix gulps, and hopes she doesn't notice.

"You thought I would miss your moment of triumph?" he asks archly.

"Felix," says Juniper, and he shivers. No one else says his name just like that and Felix has missed hearing it. "You said your interview was in a fortnight and I know how your boss is. You could barely get away to see that girlfriend of yours - what's-her-name- all last year! You expect me to believe he let you off to watch a school Quidditch game?"

The way she's looking at him now - suspicious and concerned, a little amused and something else he can't put his finger on - ignites a fiery excitement in Felix's chest.

"Why do you think I'm here, then?" he asks carefully.

"I don't know." Juniper looks down at the Butterbeer bottle resting in her lap. "I guess it's just one of my greatest fears that one day I'll get a letter from you saying you've decided to give up dragons and go back home and marry some pure-blooded dimwit who doesn't know an Opaleye from an Ironbelly and wander around your giant manor house bored out your mind at some meaningless ministry job." She says all this a little too quickly for it to be off the top of her head.

Felix stares, momentarily distracted from the sensations she's inspiring in him.

"_That_ is your greatest fear?"

"One of. I said one of."

She breaks into a self-deprecating chuckle that Felix can't help but join. And this is exactly the moment he's pictured for this evening. Juniper's full attention on him, laughing and smiling, conversation flowing between them as easily in person as in their letters. Confidence appropriately boosted, Felix relaxes against the arm of the sofa.

"Well, rest assured, I've done nothing of the kind. They moved the interview to next week. Apparently, the vacancy at the Reserve needs to be filled as quickly as possible and really it's all just a technicality anyway. And I arrived in the country with enough time to make it to the match, so I came."

Juniper scrutinises him for a moment, trying to determine if he's telling the truth.

"Honestly?" continues Felix, casually laying his arm across the back of the sofa until his hand is just centimetres away from hers. "I really don't think I could go back now. Working with dragons, it's..." He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to think of a word that captures everything he feels about his new life. It isn't the first time he's searched for this or the first time he's come up short. "Just...incredible. Better than I ever imagined."

"I can tell. It's a good look on you," Juniper declares with a lop-sided grin.

Felix can feel heat creep up the sides of his face, and wishes frantically that he knew a spell to keep from blushing. But he's almost giddy at her praise.

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," Juniper says, making a point of looking him up and down in a way that causes the blood to rush out of his face and settle elsewhere. "I mean, you still look like you, just - you know - a bit wilder, bit less refined."

She leans forward, gesturing toward the long, thin scar running down his neck and her hand is only a hair's breadth away from his skin. Felix's fingers spring up to touch the wound reflexively.

"More scarred, you mean."

Juniper watches him trace the raised line. "I think it makes you look dashing," she says with a wink.

Felix forces his fingers back down and lifts his bottle to his mouth in an attempt to keep her from seeing the foolish grin plastered to his face.

"You look happier than I've ever seen you either. It's nice." Juniper's voice is strangely thoughtful, and something about it causes Felix to lower his bottle and inspect her more closely.

There's a twitch behind her casual smile that he doesn't remember, as though it's harder to wear than it used to be. And there's a hard quality to her eyes he doesn't recognise either. That, more than anything, makes her look much older, and a different feeling stirs in Felix's stomach. It's the same sort of primal concern he felt when Flint shoved her during the match; a base urge to make whatever it is that's hurting her go away.

"You look... tired," Felix concludes, and Juniper laughs, although now he thinks he can hear the effort it requires.

"You are really bad at compliments," she remarks, and takes another swig of her drink.

"Juniper?" Felix clears his throat, unsure how to proceed. This was not part of the conversation he had hoped to have this evening, but it feels suddenly necessary. "How are you... really? With - you know - everything?" he finishes lamely, unable to put his worries into words.

"You're referring to this year's cursed vault debacle, and everyone who's trying to kill me and my friends, and the whole fiasco with my brother?"

"Yes. That."

"Fine."

Felix raises both eyebrows.

"Really. As fine as you could expect," Juniper assures him, and if he didn't know her so well he would probably be convinced. "If I look tired it might be because I've had Quidditch trainings every night for the last month as well as exams to study for. I seem to remember you spent much of your sixth year tired as well."

She raises her Butterbeer to her lips again. Felix notices the bottle is empty.

"That's all it is?" he asks skeptically, though he isn't sure what he wants her to say.

The idea that Juniper might suddenly collapse into his arms, full of tears and in need of comfort is strangely enticing, but he can't imagine her actually doing so. Three years in the wild among trained Dragonologists, and Felix has still never met anyone stronger than Juniper Windsong. Sure enough, she pulls herself up until her back is ramrod straight and looks him directly in the eye.

"Yes, Felix, that's all it is. I'm done with curse-breaking and vaults and mysteries. You were right all along. I need to focus on my future. That's what I'm doing now."

Juniper sets her empty bottle of Butterbeer down on the table with a note of finality and inspects the common room around her. It's the piercing gaze of a prefect searching nooks and crannies for rule-breaking students, and Felix almost laughs out loud to see it on her face.

_She really has grown up_, he muses, and suddenly remembers all the things he's intended to say and do this evening. It hasn't gone exactly the way he wanted. He's had no opportunity to impress her; no chance to use any of the stories or carefully-crafted lines he's rehearsed in his few free moments. But he wonders if he can't salvage something of his original plan.

"Speaking of the future," Felix says as casually as he can, setting down his own Butterbeer so his hands are free. "How are you and Barnaby?"

Juniper grimaces. "That's not the future, that's the past. You know we broke up almost a year ago."

"Yes, he's been heartsick all year," confirms Felix.

"He has not!"

"I've a whole host of letters that say otherwise."

Felix means it to sound teasing, but Juniper looks so unhappy he instantly regrets it.

"Don't tell me that!" she moans, running a hand through her hair. "What was I supposed to do? At what point should I have told him, 'I don't feel the same way about you'? After another year? After school? After he proposed?"

It's as close to distress as Felix has ever seen from Juniper, and a rush of confidence and courage propels his hand across the back of the sofa to brush against her fingers, currently digging holes into the leather. The brief contact sends sparks dancing over his skin.

"I didn't say you did the wrong thing," Felix says consolingly.

To his utter astonishment and delight, Juniper leans her head down to rest her cheek upon his outstretched fingers, her eyes squeezed shut. And if Felix thought his skin tingled before, it's nothing compared to this. A sensation like lightning surges up his arm and to his head, leaving his brain fuzzy and unfocused.

"I hate that I hurt him," Juniper sighs, eyes still closed.

"He's alright." Felix is careful to keep his voice even. "He's resilient. And he's enjoying his time as a renaissance wizard." His lips quirk briefly at the words.

Juniper jerks her head up to shoot a warning look at Felix. "Don't laugh. He's learned loads. More wizards should spend time in such pursuits."

"You're absolutely right," Felix concedes. Juniper doesn't seem about to lay her head back down, he notices wistfully, but she hasn't moved her hand from where it rests just under the tips of his fingers. He pauses before venturing as casually as possible, "And what about McNully?"

"What about him?"

"Well," Felix draws out the word, stroking the pad of his thumb across her knuckle lightly, impressed at his own daring. "He stayed awfully close to you all night long, and I noticed his commentary seemed a bit biased on your behalf."

"What do you mean?" she asks, her eyes flicking toward his fingers teasing hers. Felix smirks.

"He called you the beautiful, brilliant beater at least three times."

Juniper snorts, shaking her head dismissively. "We're just friends."

"The same way you're just friends with the Weasley boy?" Felix's heart races as he finally addresses the issue he fears most.

At this, Juniper breaks into a fit of strange giggles. Which isn't quite the emphatic denial of feeling Felix was hoping for. He says nothing, pointedly, waiting for her mirth to cool. When it does, she lowers her gaze to her lap again and chews at her lip in thought.

"I think... maybe, I'm not really any good at...all that." She gestures vaguely with the hand not trapped under his. "I mean, life-and-death stuff I can do, that's easy, but dating?" Her fingers tap nervously against her leg. "Honestly, I think relationships are more stressful than curse breaking or Quidditch or exams. I just don't know if I'm really cut out for...that sort of thing."

"You are," Felix contradicts her, entirely without thinking.

Juniper tries to raise her eyebrows at him, but they remain firmly glued in place and all she manages to do is crinkle her forehead into lines. It's such a familiar expression after all their precarious talk, and Felix is transported back to his seventh year, learning the ropes of dragons with the fourteen year old version of the girl across from him. The girl who nagged him, and frustrated him, and caused him no end of trouble, and eventually, helped him see his life in an entirely new light. Re-inspired by these memories, he slides his fingers between hers delicately, his heart beating double-time.

"It's like a dance," says Felix softly, adjusting himself on the sofa a little so their knees meet. "You just need the right partner."

It's a line Felix has saved for precisely this occasion. It's always sounded good in his head, but something in his delivery feels off. He cringes inwardly, saved from debilitating embarrassment only by Juniper's expression of wide-eyed astonishment. There's a slight flush suffusing her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink that Felix finds intensely appealing, and it's almost impossible to keep a triumphant grin from overwhelming his face. He leans forward to brush a small strand of hair out of her face with his free hand, tucking it behind her ear and he can hear her breath catch.

"Ahem."

The clearing of a throat, slight yet somehow sinister, startles Felix so badly he nearly falls to the floor. He turns hastily to the entrance wall where Professor Snape is hovering, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed almost to slits. Felix's face is so hot he's afraid it might catch fire.

"Do excuse me for interrupting," Snape intones in a voice entirely free of apology, "But it is high time Mr Rosier took his leave, as he is no longer a student at this school."

Juniper leans across the back of the sofa to face her head of house, and Felix marvels at how remarkably unaffected she seems to be by Snape's sudden arrival, or the intimate moment he's caught them in.

"Professor, do you think if I were to achieve some remarkable Quidditch Cup win that also ensures Slytherin the House Championship, you might let my guest stay a bit longer?" Juniper asks, her face even but her eyes alight with sarcastic humour.

Snape's supercilious expression does not change.

"Miss Windsong, that is the only reason your 'guest'," his lips curl unpleasantly at the word, "is still here at all. And the only thing saving _you_ from detentions every evening now until the end of term."

Juniper throws a quick glance at the grandfather clock and does a double take.

"Merlin's beard, is it really after one?" She jumps up from the sofa and spins around quickly, taking in the disheveled state of the common room.

It's miraculously free of students, Felix realises with relief, and he can only hope it's been empty long enough no one has witnessed the end of their conversation. He gets to his feet awkwardly, smoothing back his hair.

"I apologise, Professor. I lost track of the time," Felix says to the entrance wall behind Snape's head, unable to look the intimidating teacher in the face. He walks quickly around the sofa to the stairs, resigning himself to the fact that he won't be able to say the sort of goodbye he'd like, when he notices Juniper just behind him.

"I'll walk you out," she announces, with a small wink.

Snape quirks an eyebrow. "It has not been that long since Mr Rosier was last here. I'm sure he's quite capable of finding the way on his own."

His voice is as icily unbroachable as Felix remembers, and yet Juniper meets his gaze evenly.

"Of course, sir, but the halls are dangerous. You never know when some new curse will just suddenly appear. It's really best if he has some protection." And she strides purposefully toward the entrance wall without a backward glance at either wizard.

Not daring to speak, Felix follows her as fast as dignity will permit, passing Snape with a very slight nod. He expects the Potions Master to stop them at any moment, but it isn't until Felix steps through the parting bricks and into the dungeons beyond that Snape speaks again.

"Miss Windsong," he warns, his voice a deadly, carrying whisper. "On no account are you to leave this school, or there will be severe consequences. Slytherin Quidditch champion or not."

The bricks close back up between them as Juniper nods her concession.

* * *

Felix is momentarily stunned. He's never known anyone to take such a careless tone with the Slytherin Head of House and live to tell the tale.

"Shall we?" Juniper gestures up the hall with a wave of her arm. Felix shakes himself internally and follows her through the dungeons.

"So, is Snape going soft or are the two of you best mates now?" he asks as they walk. Juniper smiles.

"He's the same as ever, but I think we've reached an understanding. You know, he really cares about his students deep down. "

Felix makes a small noise of disbelief at this.

"Deep, deep, _deep_ down," Juniper amends.

Felix is far from conceding that any level of Snape, no matter how deep, could be described as "caring", but he's more concerned at the moment with how to recapture the intimate mood he had achieved before they were interrupted. He casts his mind about for an appropriate segue, but Juniper, as always, plunges in first.

"So, whatever happened to what's-her-name anyway, your French girlfriend?" she asks. Felix finds its hard to believe Juniper really can't remember his now ex-girlfriend's name as many times as he's written it.

"Aurelie. And it didn't work out."

"Oh," says Juniper with only the faintest trace of sympathy as they mount the stairs to the Entrance Hall. "Sorry."

Felix snorts unbecomingly. "Really? You only spent a year telling me how I could do better."

He's surprised to see Juniper's cheeks turn pink in the candle light.

"Well yes, I just mean...you know...break-ups are always hard, so I'm just...sorry you had to go through...that."

Her struggle for words, the blush she wears so prettily, and the way she's looking anywhere but at him all seem like encouraging signs to Felix that, perhaps, in spite of his inability to make this evening conform to the perfect scene he's envisioned, it may not be entirely unsuccessful.

"Don't be," he tells her. "No one was heart broken about it, except perhaps my parents."

"Ah, yes. Pure-blood expectations and all that." Juniper grins as they cross the Entrance Hall. "So, they send you any new prospects yet, then? Applications to look through?"

Her question wears the costume of a jest, but Felix thinks he can hear something else behind it and his stomach wriggles in pleasure.

"I've told them I'll be far too busy for the next year adjusting to this new position."

"I'm sure they took that quite well."

"Oh yes, with equanimity."

They reach the enormous double doors and Juniper, slightly ahead of Felix, pushes them open and steps through first, waiting for him to follow. But Felix stops firmly on the other side of the doors.

"Juniper, Snape said you were not to leave Hogwarts. And no matter how chummy you might think the two of you are, there's no way he doesn't get you for that kind of rule-breaking. You'll ruin your chances for Head Girl, not to mention the house points you'll lose. Get inside, now."

There's something of the prefect back in his tone and expression, but, as always, it fails to intimidate Juniper into obedience.

"Don't worry," she replies, amusement colouring her words. "I'm not bothered about being Head Girl. Rowan's better for it anyway."

Felix crosses his arms and doesn't budge.

"Besides, Snape said I wasn't to leave the_ school_, he didn't specify the castle itself. The grounds are perfectly safe."

"You've been attacked on the grounds more than once. And not just by students."

Juniper sighs exasperatedly and rolls her eyes.

"I'm sure Barnaby's accounts are highly exaggerated. And if it will make you feel better, I won't go the whole way, just down to the road, alright?"

Felix hesitates. He isn't ignorant of how dangerous Hogwarts has become in the last two years. There are more than just Cursed Vaults Juniper has to contend with now, and the part of him that feels responsible for her well-being has a definite bad feeling about her walking back to the castle on her own so late.

"C'mon, Felix. I don't really want to say goodbye here in the hall, do you?'

That argument strikes a powerful chord with him. And against his better judgement, Felix allows himself to be persuaded.

* * *

"So, do you know how long you'll be in the country?" Juniper asks in a would-be casual voice, as they descend the grassy slope leading from the castle to the road into Hogsmeade. "The term will be over soon, we should get together sometime before you leave."

It takes a sincere amount of effort for Felix to reign in his simultaneous excitement and regret as he admits, "I'm afraid I won't be here past next week. As soon as the paperwork is complete, I'll be heading for Romania. I didn't want to stick around too long and give my parents more time to nag at me."

"Oh yeah, of course," agrees Juniper easily, but there's a very slight note of disappointment in her voice, Felix thinks. The time has come to take a risk.

"But, once I'm settled...you know, it's not like Peru where I was in the wild all the time in tents never knowing where we were going to be. The Reserve is safe. Well, relatively safe. There's lots of people."

He's babbling, which is ridiculous because he's practiced this so many times. It's incredible how much harder it is to focus around her than around man-eating dragons.

"You could always come for a visit, if you wanted."

"Really?" Juniper asks, and there's genuine excitement in her voice. "That sounds fantastic!"

Relief prevents Felix from fully concealing his smile. "I know you'll be swamped with your NEWTs, but I thought you might stay for the Christmas holiday. If you're not too busy, of course."

There's a brief moment of hesitation on her part, and Felix forgets how to breathe as the worry he's misread everything that's passed between them this evening constricts his chest like a python. But when Juniper turns her head toward him it's with a grin so wide she hides it behind her hand.

"I would love to, Felix. If you're serious."

Felix stops. He makes a point of looking Juniper in the eye as he assures her, "I'm very serious," and the colour spreading across her cheeks, just discernible by the light of his wand, convinces him she grasps his deeper meaning.

The cool night wind tosses her hair gently, and Felix has a brief vision of his hand reaching forward to caress the side of her face, her eyes widening as he leans in to her, and their lips meeting softly in the perfect kiss he's dreamed of for longer than he cares to admit.

It's the opportunity he's been waiting for, and Felix takes a slow, steadying breath. But as tries to recall the words he's prepared for this moment, he discovers his mind is entirely blank. He freezes, mouth slightly open. He's reminded forcefully of a night years ago when he stood at the edge of a valley overlooking his first ever dragon, desperate to climb in but unable take a step.

After a laden moment, Juniper looks away, blush deepening, and trudges off down the hill.

"Then, I'll see you in a few months, I guess," she says over her shoulder, her voice pitched higher than usual. "Always assuming next year's drama doesn't do me in."

It's a joke, a throwaway comment meant to ease the tension, Felix is sure, but it prods a secret, highly sensitive nerve, causing him to wince almost visibly. It frees his captive limbs, and Felix quickly catches Juniper up. He grabs her hand to force her to stop and face him, no longer in a mood to appreciate the way her pupils dilate.

"Juniper," he says, his voice as earnest as he knows how to make it. "Promise me you're done. _Really_ done. With curse-breaking and-and all the creatures and...you know, life-threatening situations in general."

"Felix," Juniper replies, with a nervous giggle, glancing between them to where his hand clutches hers. "You know I can't promise that. This is Hogwarts! We're always in danger. If it's not Cursed Vaults and assassins, then it's werewolves or yetis or free-range chimaeras." The concern in Felix's face does not fade, and she sighs. "But I promise I'm finished _looking_ for danger."

"And your brother? You're finished looking for him, as well?"

Juniper stiffens. "That's different."

"Only because it's worse," he insists, but it's the wrong thing to say. Juniper tugs her hand from his and places it on her hip defiantly.

"It isn't a choice. I have to help him."

"Juniper!" Felix's voice is almost pleading, and he would be mortified if this wasn't so important.

She meets his gaze with her patented look of grim, un-swayable determination. It's an expression Felix hated when he first met her, and he feels an echo of that again. It's a defense he's never been able to crack.

"Felix, Jacob needs my help. Even if he doesn't want to admit it. He can't do this all on his own. And I can't just abandon him." Juniper tries to force a reassuring smile. "But I will be careful. I promise."

Uncomfortable silence stretches between them, neither sure what to say next. The sound of rustling grass from somewhere close by causes them both to start.

"I should get back. Before Snape comes looking for me," says Juniper awkwardly, stuffing her free hand into her pocket. "But...I'll see you at Christmas? If you still want me?"

Felix watches Juniper's face searching his for confirmation, and he sighs.

"Of course," he says, his voice resigned.

Felix watches Juniper climb the hill in the dark with a pang of longing. He briefly considers running after her, grabbing her arms and pulling her against him, making her understand exactly why her safety is so essential to him. But he knows it would be pointless. Schoolboys vying for her affection, Felix might compete with. But he knows there's no argument in his arsenal that will ever convince her to choose him over her brother.

* * *

_A/N: *Canon divergent: I've always thought it a bit ridiculous for all the Quidditch characters to be in MC's own house, so my own personal head canon is that Murphy McNully is in Ravenclaw, the house I think suits him best. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Summary: "Brought her in on my shift, they did. Thought she were dead! Pale as a corpse - like there weren't no blood left in her - but twitching, like. The way I used to see 'em back when...You-Know-Who's followers were torturing people left and right. You'd see 'em twitch like that when they'd had the Cruciatus Curse used on 'em too long."_

* * *

It takes twelve and half minutes to walk the road leading from the Hogwarts grounds into Hogsmeade, then a matter of seconds to apparate outside the Leaky Cauldron in London. Add four more minutes to enter the crowded pub, climb the stairs, and wind down the hall to the room at the very end, and Felix has had just enough time to work himself into a respectable frenzy.

Felix has never been able to pinpoint the exact date he fell in love with Juniper Windsong, so he can't say definitively just how long he's been planning their reunion. But it's been the highlight of his thoughts for almost a year. The perfect evening, carefully orchestrated to show Juniper how he's come to feel about her and persuade her to feel the same. Gone to pieces.

He slams the door, the parade of ruined moments and wasted opportunities building enough furious momentum behind his arm to rattle the frame. Throwing his cloak over the room's mouldy winged armchair, Felix runs his fingers irritably through his hair. He should have been more direct, he berates himself, kicking petulantly at one of the chair's wobbly legs. It gives an indignant "Oi!" and scoots away from him, nearer the fire. He had hoped to let his actions explain his feelings for him, even thought he'd done a halfway decent job in spite of the evening's rocky start. But replaying their conversations in his head, Felix fears he wasn't obvious enough.

Regret beats a heartless rhythm against the inside of his skull as he perches on the edge of the rickety bed. Juniper _did _want to see him over the summer, he consoles himself, that's something. And she had seemed genuinely excited at the prospect of visiting him. And there was that moment in the common room, their fingers intertwined, faces so close Felix could almost feel the nervous excitement radiating from her. He's positive Juniper had been waiting for him to lean in just a bit more, even imagines her eyes had flicked for a moment to his lips.

Felix falls back against the lumpy mattress with a groan. All that means nothing if she gets herself killed next year. Felix had so hoped finding Jacob Windsong alive would finally put a stop to her amateur investigations. But he knows with a sinking certainty, in spite of her assurances that she wants to leave the Cursed Vaults behind, Juniper will never be able to escape their web while her brother is still caught in it.

And even if she survives her last year of school unscathed, he thinks miserably, there's always her excessive number of male friends. Juniper may have little interest in them now, but Felix knows better than anyone how much a relationship can change in one term.

His brain bruised by the weight of all the things he cannot control, Felix pulls his wand out from underneath him and points it in the direction of his valise.

"Accio," he mumbles.

The bag sails halfheartedly across the room and stalls at the foot of the bed. Felix uses the tip of his shoe to edge it closer to him, his hand fumbling for the catch. He reaches in without looking and, as he does whenever he feels anxious, pulls out a sheaf of parchments wrapped in a leather tie, heavily frayed and dangerously thin in places.

He tugs at the crude binding carefully, toying, as he often does, with the romantic notion of finding a ribbon, preferably Juniper's, to replace the leather. But he's never known her to wear any kind of ribbon in her hair. And anyway, Felix thinks as he pulls out a particularly worn piece of parchment, he doubts a hair ribbon would wrap all the way around their collected years of correspondence. He settles back against the pillow and lets the words he knows by heart soothe its anxiously racing beat.

* * *

Since his graduation, Felix has received more letters from Juniper than he can count. This by itself isn't exceptional. He's received many letters, far more than he expected. Former classmates write occasionally with updates on their lives, Barnaby writes regularly for advice, and even his mother sends the sporadic note pleading with him to return home. But it's Juniper who writes with questions about him. Juniper, to whom Felix recounts his days, even the most boring and difficult bits. She has the uncanny ability to read past his affected formality, and Felix soon discovers there's no one else with whom he can truly be himself.

After months of rough tenting with bad food and very few actual dragons, it's Juniper Felix complains to, and Juniper who both sympathises and challenges him to stay his course. When he's forced to kill a dragon for the first time in defence of himself and his team, it's to Juniper Felix relays the entire gut-wrenching affair, complete with the horrid guilt he feels and the nightmares he cannot shake. And it's Juniper who comforts him with words like a balm, that he reads through each night to lull himself to sleep. Her letters become the best part of every month, and he begins counting the days until they arrive.

It's after the end of his first and only relationship, nearly a year ago, that Felix begins picking Juniper's letters apart, studying them as intently as if he'll be tested on their contents. He re-reads everything she's ever written, parsing each word for hidden meaning, anything that might indicate she cares for him as more than a friend or confidante. Some days Felix is convinced he can read love plainly in her words, then the next day he's sure he imagined it. The uncertainty drives him to distraction, until admitting the depth of his feelings actually seems like the less painful option. But it has to be done face to face, Felix decides, that's the proper way. And after the Quidditch match on which so much of her school reputation is staked seems like the best time; when she'll either be full of high spirits or in need of comfort.

* * *

Felix sets the worn letter aside in agitation. It's no good. He's reached a level of anxiety he's only ever been able to soothe by writing to Juniper about it, which he can hardly do in this case.

An idea appears in Felix's head fully formed, and he sits up abruptly. Why _not _just tell her in a letter? Felix had convinced himself love was something that must be discussed in person, that the month spent waiting for a response to such an admission would be unbearable. But he's no longer at the mercy of inter-continental post. Her return letter might even reach him before he left England. And he's always been better able to express himself in writing.

Perhaps his prose can do what his actions couldn't and convince her to keep herself safe. For him.

Reinvigorated by this new plan, Felix scrambles off the bed. He pulls parchment, quill, and ink from his bag, and seats himself at the spindly-legged stool in front of the room's token writing desk. A small window looms behind it, the darkness outside transforming the glass into a black mirror reflecting his face, every line quivering with purpose.

Felix dips his quill in ink and pauses briefly at the top of the parchment. The ink drips slowly from the quill tip after one minute, and then another, and then several pass without him pressing the point to the page, as it dawns on him that he has not the first idea how to begin such a letter. Which seems impossible; he's composed snatches of letters like this in his head for a year, waiting for the perfect moment to pen them. But now it's time, words seem to have deserted Felix, just as they did in the common room and out on the grounds.

Because it has to be perfect. That's key. Whatever he writes has to convince Juniper to put aside a quest that's become an obsession, persuade her his love is worth such a sacrifice. And Felix is positive it is. There isn't a person alive, including her brother, who cares for Juniper more than he does. Felix is certain of that.

A small, confident smile flickers to life on his lips, and Felix begins to write. Haltingly at first. But he finds as he focuses on Juniper's smiling face, the memory of her cheek pressed against his fingers, the words come easier, and it isn't long before he's pouring his heart onto the page. He confesses to the parchment everything he's felt for Juniper since he was seventeen, allowing emotion to choose his words instead of adherence to any literary form. Felix writes until his parchment is exhausted, then leans back from the desk.

He holds the letter close to the yellow candle illuminating the desktop in uneven patches and reads what he's written with a critical eye; and then again, trying to see the words from her perspective. With a slight shake of his head, Felix sets the parchment back down and picks up the quill again, crossing out lines and adding words in, until any ordinary candle would have melted into its iron holder and sputtered out.

By the time the sky outside the window lightens to a steely grey, Felix has finished a draft he likes. Perhaps it would be hubris to call it perfect, he thinks immodestly, but it's certainly close. He folds the parchment with extreme care, as though excess creases may cause her to simply throw the thing away without reading, then tucks it delicately into an envelope and seals it before he can reconsider.

Flushed with excitement, Felix stands, stretching his cramped fingers. The thought of waiting to deliver the letter is intolerable, but, as he glances out the window at the predawn light, he knows the Post Office in Diagon Alley won't yet be open. The rational voice in his head suggests timidly that he ought to get some sleep, but there's too much adrenaline coursing through him and he's itchy for action. He'll wait in the pub, he decides, have a quick bite to eat and then set off as soon as the hour strikes.

Felix tucks the letter carefully into the pocket of his rumpled robes, and walks with a bounce out of the room and down the cramped and winding stairs.

* * *

Felix wasn't overly familiar with the Leaky Cauldron before two days ago. Necessity has forced him to rent a room there while in England. His father, astonishingly tolerant up till now of what he considers Felix's "rebellious dragon phase", has made it clear in his last correspondence that a transfer to the Romanian Reserve is the final straw, and until Felix is willing to return to his family obligations, he will no longer enjoy any Rosier family benefits. Namely money and a place to live. Since Felix has expected this since he first introduced his chosen profession to his parents, he's only moderately hurt.

This is the second morning Felix has spent in the inn and pub, but he's learned he enjoys its sleepy silence as the regulars engross themselves in their papers before ingesting enough food and news to begin chatting with their neighbors. It makes for a pleasant start to the day, and Felix pushes open the door looking forward to a quiet breakfast before he completes his life-changing post.

Instead, a low thrum of excited muttering fills the room, emanating from the fireplace where nearly all the pub's early-morning patrons, and even its proprietor, have congregated. Tom has not yet bothered to set down all the chairs from their night-time perches on the tables. He's standing just behind a witch in lime-green robes who seems to be the center of the whispering crowd.

Felix seats himself on a stool at the bar, casting surreptitious glances over at the furtive group, trying to catch snippets of their conversation. But they insist on speaking in hushed tones, as if their subject is too dangerous to be discussed at a normal volume. Felix finally catches the eye of the barman, who breaks reluctantly away and trots over.

"You'll be wanting breakfast, then, sir?" Tom asks, his voice friendly, though he continues to shoot longing looks behind him. "It was coffee you took, in't that right?"

"Yes, thank you," replies Felix distractedly. "Is everything alright?" He looks pointedly at the fireplace and Tom's eyes light up with the thrill of the gossip.

"Oh, I'm afraid not," says the barman with enthusiasm. "There was another attack up at Hogwarts school last night!"

All Felix's animated energy freezes in an instant, leaving his limbs stiff and his hand quite unable to lift the cup Tom sets in front of him.

"You mean... someone else was petrified? I thought that was all over."

Tom shakes his head happily. "Not petrified no. Apparently, the student was brought to St Mungo's. The school professors weren't sure what happened, but they're trying to keep it awful quiet. Winn," he jerks his chin over at the witch in green robes. "Was on duty and just happened to see them bring her in."

"'Her'?" Felix asks, his throat so dry it comes out a croak. There's hundreds of students at Hogwarts, he reassures his racing heart, there's no reason for it to be -

"The Windsong girl. You know - the Cursebreaker? Her brother's that one expelled some years back, you might remember him - Master Rosier?"

Felix vacates his stool and stumbles over to the fireplace where the witch in lime-green robes continues to murmur under her breath to her captive audience.

"Excuse me," he somehow manages to say.

The witches and wizards around the fire all look up at him.

"Did you...did you say you saw a Hogwarts student brought into St Mungo's last night?"

The witch called Winn nods vigorously. "Not just any Hogwarts student! Jacob Windsong's sister! The one what's been opening all them cursed vaults up at the school the last few years!" Her voice is subdued but shaking with excitement. She shuffles her chair around to face Felix, clearly pleased for an excuse to retell her story.

"Brought her in on my shift, they did. Thought she were dead! Pale as a corpse - like there weren't no blood left in her - but twitching, like. The way I used to see 'em back when..." She clears her throat and her eyes dart about as if searching for hidden spies, before she continues even lower than before, "Back when You-Know-Who's followers were torturing people left and right. You'd see 'em twitch like that when they'd had the Cruciatus Curse used on 'em too long."

One of the wizards by the fire shakes his head and says something about the mad goings-on of teenagers these days, but Felix isn't listening. He's already moving away, lurching between tables and knocking into chairs as if drunk. Ignoring the pub patrons' affronted looks and Tom still calling to him from the bar, he trips out the front door and apparates as soon as his feet hit the pavement.

* * *

Felix hasn't been to St Mungo's since he was a child, and his current visit does nothing to improve his ill-feeling about the place. The lobby is packed, which seems strange to him for so early in the morning. The seats are full of witches and wizards tapping their feet and sighing heavily with poorly-hidden impatience. Healers in lime-green robes walk swiftly to and fro, all headed in different directions, and the queue for the help desk is a dozen people long. There's a sign above it informing those who can read which types of maladies belong to each floor of the hospital. But, Felix realises, since he doesn't know exactly what's happened to Juniper, he has no idea where she might be.

Blood pumps thickly in his head, making the sounds in the lobby seem oddly muffled as though he's underwater. Felix walks briskly to the information desk and brings his hand down harder than intended on top of the counter. The smacking sound has no visible effect on the bored-looking help witch beyond a quick flick of her eyes away from the hiccoughing wizard in the queue and toward Felix.

"I'm looking for Juniper Windsong," he says, his voice shaking with some emotion he doesn't have time to identify.

"Excuse me, sir," the help-witch drawls tonelessly. "But if you have a question you'll need to queue up like everyone else."

She gives a barely perceptible jerk of her chin at the line of people now glaring at Felix. One woman's entire face is a vivid shade of pink, and a small child standing with his mother seems to have steam emitting from his nostrils. But none of them appear in any immediate danger to Felix, and he turns back to the help-witch belligerently.

"This cannot wait. Juniper Windsong. She was brought in last night."

The help-witch blinks dubiously at him, but something in Felix's voice or face seems to convince the girl her life will be easier the sooner she gets rid of him. She drags a clipboard across the desk toward her with two fingers and glances down at it.

"I don't have anyone by that name here," she announces, her tone still bored but a slight curl at the edge of her mouth.

"Yes, you do! You must!" he insists, now almost shouting. Because if she's not here, then that means...

"Mr Rosier." A cold, quiet, and all too familiar voice stops Felix's rising panic in its tracks. He whips around to find Professor Snape standing by the entrance to a stairwell. "What are you-"

"Professor!" Felix interrupts, abandoning the help desk and hurrying over to Snape.

"Is it true?" he asks, suddenly breathless. "Juniper. Is she-"

Before Felix can finish, Snape grips his elbow tightly and drags him into the stairwell, slamming the door shut behind them. The Potions Master casts his dark eyes around as if making sure they're alone before answering in a crisp whisper:

"Kindly do not bandy Miss Windsong's name about in front of so many witnesses. It is important that her presence at this hospital be kept entirely secret. Which is why," his eyes narrow at Felix, "I must ask how you came to know she was here."

"I - she - " Felix tries to breathe normally, but air seems to catch against his ribs, his chest constricting. "A healer. In the Leaky Cauldron. She...she said she saw her - Juniper - last night. She said, she was attacked. But-"

"How do you know the person speaking was a healer?"

Thrown by the question, Felix casts his mind back for the details of the conversation that he realizes with a lurch was not fifteen minutes ago. It feels more like hours.

"Tom! He said she was a healer. And she had the robes, the same color green that the healers wear."

Snape closes his eyes briefly, nostrils flaring in forceful exhalation. Felix has seen this look on the Potion Master's face before when dealing with exceptionally dim-witted students. Felix doesn't know whether it's himself or the healer in question with whom Snape is exasperated, and he doesn't care.

"Professor, what's happened to Juniper? Is she alright? The healer said she was attacked, but she didn't say...I mean...she wasn't sure..." Every ending Felix can think of to this sentence causes his throat to convulse.

Snape considers before answering, his words tinged with frost. "Miss Windsong is alive for the moment."

A flood of warm relief washes over Felix almost tangibly.

"But," Snape continues. "she has been very gravely..." He pauses, tongue between his teeth, as if choosing his next word carefully."...wounded."

"Why? What happened? Is it something to do with the Vaults? Is she going to be alright?" Felix asks every question that comes to his mind all in a rush.

Snape says nothing. He scrutinizes Felix closely, and Felix gets that uncomfortable prickle he sometimes feels around his former head of house, as though the professor can see right through him. He averts his gaze, and stares instead at his ink-stained hands.

Snape's voice, still frigid, but not quite as icy as before, breaks the silence.

"Follow me, Mr Rosier."

Snape turns on his heel and ascends the staircase without a backward glance. Felix hastens to follow.

At the fourth floor landing, Snape throws open the door and proceeds into a corridor crowded with harried healers. Felix, who cuts a much less intimidating figure than the Potions Master, has to push through the lime-green crowd forcefully in order to keep up. Snape turns down a side hall, and then another, longer one, until they reach a deserted corridor with a dirty window marking a dead-end. Snape forgoes the doors on either side, stopping instead in front of the window, daylight just peeking through the streaky glass. He taps the pane on the lower right with his wand, and Felix can hear a very soft click, like a lock being turned. The window swings inward, and Snape and Felix step quickly inside.

The room is small, only slightly larger than the Hogwarts Artefact Room, with no windows and no other doors. There's just enough space for a solid looking bed; a rather high bedside table covered in potion bottles on one side if it, and a chair pulled up to the other. Felix can see the outline of legs tucked under a white sheet lying on the bed, but the rest of the occupant is hidden by the bulky figure in the chair, who stands quickly and revolves to face the two intruders.

The man raises his wand directly at Felix, who flinches, though for once it has less to do with the wand itself and more to do with the heavily scarred face of the person holding it.

"Password," The man grunts. Snape does not bother to conceal his eye-roll.

"Dragon Heart-String," he pronounces with very slight disdain, and the strange looking person lowers his wand a fraction.

All Felix's attention is caught up in the man's one electric blue eye that swivels eerily over both newcomers, then rolls right back into his head as if checking on the patient in the bed behind him. He's so distracted by this display, Felix doesn't notice the man's other eye inspecting him suspiciously.

"Who is this?" the man asks in a gruff voice. "I thought you were bringing back one of the trainees."

"It seems as though the healers cannot all be trusted," Snape replies loftily. "One is already blabbing the attack in the pub."

The other man swears under his breath.

"This is...a friend of Windsong's," Snape continues.

Felix isn't sure, but he thinks there's a slight pause before Snape pronounces the word 'friend', and a careful note to his words. But he's too preoccupied to give this further thought. The shock of the room's strange guardian has worn off enough for Felix's attention to return to the bed. And as the man steps toward Snape, the head on the pillow becomes visible.

If Felix hadn't known it was supposed to be Juniper, he might not have recognised her straight away. She looks like an entirely different person from the vibrant young woman laughing and flirting with him only hours ago. It's as though all the blood has been drained from beneath her skin, leaving her as pale and lifeless as the healer in the pub described. The only part of her with any color are the uncountable number of angry red cuts decorating her face and the visible portion of her neck and arms. She's so eerily still Felix would be terrified Snape was mistaken about her condition, if it weren't for the slight twitching of her fingers, curled strangely and lying on either side of her.

Bile rises in Felix's throat and he has to swallow hard to keep from being violently ill. He's known Juniper to be injured many times before; she's famous for it. He's seen her battered by Devil's Snare, half-frozen to death by cursed ice, knocked about by a dragon. But his memories of those admittedly deadly injuries all include her face set in grim determination or flushed with success. Felix has never seen her like this. Broken and beaten on a hospital bed.

"What happened to her?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"Tortured," the man with the strange blue eye replies matter-of-factly. "Cruciatus curse by the tremors. And the cuts are one of R's signature curses."

"R?" asks Felix vaguely, fumbling for anything that will keep his mind from creating a mental picture of Juniper being tortured.

The man explains irritably as though this should be common knowledge. "R is the organisation after the vaults. They're the ones have been threatening Miss Windsong the last few years."

"But...how could they get to her while she's at school?" questions Felix, his voice rising. "Surely, there's spells and wards set up to protect the students?"

"Of course," Snape responds coolly from behind Felix. "But it's been well-established that the defences surrounding school grounds can be penetrated. One has to be inside the school itself for the Headmaster's greater protections to be of any effect. And Miss Windsong was found outside on the grounds. Do you have any idea why she might have been out there, Mr. Rosier?"

Felix's knees buckle abruptly. He grabs the back of the bedside chair to keep himself from falling to the floor. If his display of weakness elicits any reaction from the other men, Felix doesn't notice. His eyes are shut tight against the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. His voice cracks as he rasps:

"It's my fault."

"Excuse me?" The man with the swiveling blue eye whips around to face Felix again, normal eye narrowed. His wand is still pointed aggressively, and Felix half wishes the man would just curse him.

"I - she - was with me," Felix tries to explain, nausea churning his stomach sickly. The chair is now the only thing keeping him upright.

"You were with her on the grounds?" the man demands, his blue eye now fixed on Felix as well. "What happened? What did you see? Who else was there?"

"There wasn't anyone. There was...it was...just us. "

The weight of the guilt causes something in Felix to snap. He cranes his neck around searching for the eyes of his former head of house, desperate for assurance that this isn't his fault; that Juniper isn't half-dead because of him.

"I told her not to, Professor, I swear! She wouldn't listen, I couldn't stop her! But...everything was normal. There wasn't anything strange or-or suspicious on the grounds. I didn't - I mean, I - I thought..."

Snape wrenches his gaze away from Felix, as if his pleading is something painful to watch. But Felix is beyond embarrassment for the moment.

"Mr. Rosier," Snape responds, still looking decidedly anywhere but at Felix. "I am all too familiar with Miss Windsong's particularly obdurate determination to do whatever she pleases. However, I think we both know you exerted little effort to dissuade her. And it cannot be denied that you are the reason Miss Windsong was out on the grounds alone last night."

Each of Snape's words cuts deeply into Felix, like a mirror of the wounds decorating Juniper's arms. All his defensiveness bleeds slowly out of him, and he sags further against the chair.

"If," Snape continues, "you would like to make amends for your foolishness, then perhaps you would be willing to help us now."

"I - Yes! Of course, anything, what-"

"At the moment, Miss Windsong appears to be under an enchantment of some kind. Discovering what exactly happened to her and who attacked her may enable us to wake her. We need to investigate, but we also need to keep a guard over her. It is not unlikely that whoever did this may return when they realize their work is unfinished."

"I'll stay," Felix answers, a semblance of strength returning to his voice. The idea that he'll be allowed to help is entirely unexpected, but a set task goes a long way to reasserting his focus.

The strange-eyed man looks from Felix to Snape, his face, a map of scars and craters, alight with skepticism.

"You sure he's up to it?"

Snape stares hard at Felix until that uncomfortable prickling begins to resurface, but Felix is determined to keep his gaze, to prove he can be trusted.

"I believe so," Snape answers. The other man gives Snape a disparaging look before lowering his wand to his side.

"Fine. If anything happens to her, it'll be on your heads then." He crosses the small room in two long strides and looks back at Felix as he reaches the door.

"You. No one is to enter this room without the password. The healers assigned to her know it, and they're the only ones I trust. Anyone else tries to get in, stun them and call for backup. Do you understand?"

Felix nods in affirmation, not trusting himself to speak.

"Do not take this lightly, boy. Miss Windsong's life may depend on your vigilance."

Felix straightens with as much fortitude as he can muster. He directs his words to the man in front of him, but they're really a promise to himself.

"I won't let anything happen to her."


	4. Chapter 4

_Summary: _  
_"I have done my best since I've been back to make sure no one got to her, but it's a bit of full time gig, that. I warned her to stay out and let me handle it."_  
_"You thought she would stay away if you just told her to? Have you ever met Juniper?"_

* * *

Post to the dragon infested wilds of northeastern Peru is not always possible, and what birds do manage it are never timely. Which is why Felix does not read Rita Skeeter's article on Juniper Windsong* until several months after his graduation. "From Cursebreaker to Quidditch Darling: A Witch of Many Hats" declares the headline, set above a photograph of an awkwardly smiling Juniper. She's giving the camera a surprised sort of half-wave, as though only aware of its presence a second before the flash.

So far, Felix has done a successful job putting his crush on his school friend from his mind, aided by the million and one things he has to learn about his new and dangerous job. But something about the picture-Juniper's expression touches that part of him still nursing a soft spot for her. He severs the photograph from the article with his wand, tucking it carefully into a trouser pocket. And for the next three years, that's where it stays; his only aid in recalling her face with the precise detail he craves more and more frequently.

The body on the hospital bed has the same features, slightly aged. But Felix cannot reconcile it with the Juniper he knows. There's no sign of life in her, beyond the incessant twitching of her fingers. Closer inspection reveals her myriad tiny cuts to be deeper than Felix initially realised. The wounds, while magically sealed, are puckered and raised. He knows each one will leave a small scar.

And her face. Her face is entirely expressionless. It reminds Felix of the mannequins at the hospital's entrance. No one could confuse her condition with merely sleeping.

How long he stands by the bed minutely inspecting each injured part of Juniper, Felix isn't sure. His brain is strangely detached, as if it's reached the limit of what it can process in one day and has recused itself from any further analysis. Felix can't really blame it. In the span of one morning, he's fallen from exuberant high-spirits through various layers of unexpected terror before bottoming out in wretched guilt. Now, with no action left to keep up momentum, the rapid rush of conflicting emotion burns out, leaving numb exhaustion in its wake.

* * *

Only when his knees start to feel shaky once more does Felix remember the thing he's leaning against is a chair, and he drops into it. It's a comfortable, winged armchair, most unlike the hard, wooden chairs Madam Pomfrey conjures for guest use in the Hogwart's Hospital Wing. He wonders briefly if all the rooms in St Mungo's are equally accommodating or if it indicates this patient's need for more regular supervision.

Felix sinks deeper into the cushions gratefully. Perhaps it's the lack of sleep, or the fact that he's been denied furniture this comfortable for years, but drowsiness begins to trickle through his limbs enticingly. Keeping his eyes open is suddenly a herculean task...

* * *

Felix only knows he's fallen asleep when the soft click of the hidden door unlocking wakes him. Disoriented, he struggles from the chair, fumbling for his wand. But the witch who enters, a short, curly-haired woman in lime-green robes, says "Dragon-Heart String," promptly before he's able to pull it from his pocket.

"You're awake this time," the healer observes crisply, striding to the bedside table. "Good. I was beginning to worry you'd been cursed as well."

Felix makes rather more production than necessary stowing his wand back into his rumpled robes, surreptitiously wiping sleep from his eyes and giving the heat in his face time to cool. When he turns back to the bed, the healer is running her wand over Juniper's chest slowly, the wood just brushing the white sheet. The wand tip glows a deep, pulsing red and the healer nods once as if in confirmation.

"What are you doing?" asks Felix.

"Checking her vital signs," replies the healer. "Her heart rate is slowing."

She says this so matter-of-factly it takes a minute for Felix to process it isn't a good thing. His own heart begins to beat double-time.

"Surely you can fix that?"

The healer shakes her head once, iron-gray curls bouncing. She reaches for a small bottle on the bedside table and uncorks it, upending the contents onto a bit of cloth.

"Not unless we can discover what spell was used on her." The healer begins dabbing the cloth gently over the angry red cuts on Juniper's face. "Nothing we've tried has worked so far. I have my trainee researching rare curses and sleep enchantments, but-" She clicks her tongue doubtfully.

In spite of her brusque tone, Felix's notices the healer's motions are exceedingly gentle. She takes her time, massaging the cloth over each small wound on Juniper's face down to her exposed neck. Something in her tender ministrations betrays concern, and an echo of the morning's fear slithers back through Felix's veins.

"But... she's going to be alright...isn't she?"

The healer looks up at him abruptly, cloth stilling on Juniper's shoulder.

"Has no one explained to you what's happened to this girl?

"They - he said - she was attacked."

The healer regards him steadily. "She has been tortured. See her hands? That's a sign of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. Pain like that has permanent effects on the body and the mind. It can quite literally drive a person mad. Even if we manage to wake her, I doubt very much whether she will be 'alright'."

Felix's heart beat climbs into his throat. He swallows hard, trying to wrap his mind around this new and terrifying possibility.

"There has to be something you can do," he protests weakly. The healer shakes her head again, curls bouncing.

"Not against that sort of magic." She sets her cloth back on the beside table and contemplates Juniper's lifeless form, hands on hips. "There's research being done into alleviating the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, but nothing practical has come of it so far." Her jaw tenses in the first real emotion Felix has seen from her. "There's a reason that Curse is unforgivable."

The healer bends over the bed to smooth down the sheet, tucking excess fabric in around the inert body. Satisfied with the result, she straightens and considers Felix carefully.

"So. Do you think you can manage to stay awake through the evening now you've had your kip, or should I call in a trainee to relieve you?"

There's no hiding the burning in his face this time, but Felix draws himself up in spite of it and tries to look as competent as possible.

"It won't happen again, I assure you."

She gives another curt nod and bustles around the bed.

"There's a bell on the table. Give a ring if anything changes. My trainee will hear it."

* * *

Foregoing the treacherously cosy armchair, Felix perches on the edge of the bed beside Juniper's trembling hand. Even without the healer's admonition, he would not have been able to return to sleep.

Fears for Juniper's safety have always plagued Felix. He's endured more than one restless night worrying what might be happening to her thousands of kilometres away. But everything he's imagined feeling should the worst occur - grief and pain and regret - such easy emotions have no place here. What Felix feels he has no words for. There's only a wrenching in his gut and a scream building in his chest, threatening to erupt uncontrollably, like vomit. Dead or mad, somehow both carry the same crushing weight. The thought that who Juniper is will be gone forever is inconceivable. It pulls at the very threads of Felix's mind, stretching it in the most horrid way.

Felix reaches for Juniper's hand, cradling it delicately in both of his own like an eggshell. He can feel the restless twitching of her fingers, every other part of her so unnaturally still. She's never been this still in life, he thinks. And the unconscious word choice brings horrified tears to his eyes he cannot blink away.

Felix hasn't cried since he was a small child. It was never an acceptable expression in his family. Even now, a part of him twinges with fear as tears run sloppily down his cheeks and nose. Some instinct imprinted in him aches with the memory of the physical pain crying awards. But jinxes and hexes seem like nothing to Felix now. He would take them in a heartbeat over this.

Tears seem to loosen Felix's tongue, and all the confessions and apologies churning inside him burst forth unbidden.

"Juniper. Oh, gods, Juniper. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

He lifts her hand to his lips, pressing them against her knuckles, and then her fingertips, uncurling her shaking fingers to place a kiss against her palm. It's riddled with tiny cuts, and older, shiny pink scars.

Felix knows the story behind those now: souvenirs of her fight with the guardian of the Vault of Ice in her second year. Thirteen years old, and battling for her life against an enchanted knight, unmoved by her age or her lack of experience. By all accounts, it's a fight Juniper should never have survived. But she did. Somehow, she always does.

Felix sniffs and wipes the heel of his free hand across his cheeks.

"Juniper, please. Please, be okay," he murmurs against her fingers like a prayer. "You can fight this. Whatever it is. You're strong. The strongest person I know, and I-" He chokes as a sob tries to escape around his words. "I need you to be okay. I need-"

Felix's words are interrupted by the door opening for a second time. And something in the way the lock clunks, a louder, more forceful sound than it's usual click, sets his nerves on edge. Dropping Juniper's hand, he whips around and draws his wand in one smooth motion, pointing it directly at the man whose back is now pressed against the closed door.

The intruder is dressed in lime green robes, but they fit him uncomfortably, a size too small for his well-built frame, and Felix doesn't have to recognise him to know he isn't really a healer. Except for the fact that his face isn't cracked into a lop-sided grin, the man looks exactly as Felix remembers, even if it's been over a decade since they last met. The man's hand tightens over his own wand as he catches sight of Felix's, but he adjusts his face to something politely professional.

"Sorry, must have the wrong room."

His hand is on the doorknob when Felix says, "Jacob Windsong."

If Juniper's brother is startled at being recognised, he doesn't show it. He merely furrows his brow at Felix curiously.

"Do I know you?"

"Felix Rosier."

Jacob cocks his head in mild surprise. "Blimey. Didn't recognise you."

"It's been a long time." Felix's voice is calm, but he can feel anger bubbling up inside him. If there's any one person who is really to blame for Juniper's condition, it's the man in front of him.

"For you, maybe," replies Jacob cryptically. He glances from Felix to the bed. "I see you've met my sister. How is she?"

Jacob's conversational tone, as though they've met at the grocer's and are forced by social convention to make polite inquiries after one another, strains Felix's self-control.

"How does she look?" he asks wildly, a flailing hand indicating the bed beside him. "She's been tortured and cursed! No one at the school could wake her, and the healers don't even know if she'll survive! Thanks to you!"

Jacob flinches as if Felix has thrown something at him. "It's not my fault."

"Are you mad?" Felix's temper rises with each word. "You're the reason she's here! She got herself mixed up in cursed vaults and bloody cults looking for you!"

"I know. And I am sorry about all that. And I have done my best since I've been back to make sure no one got to her, but it's a bit of full time gig, that. I warned her to stay out and let me handle it."

Felix's mirthless laugh is dangerously close to a shriek. "You thought she would stay away if you just told her to? Have you ever _met _Juniper?"

Jacob ignores this, considering Felix curiously instead.

"How do _you_ know Juniper? What are you doing here?"

Heat creeps up Felix's cheeks and his indignation flags. "I...was her prefect in school. Now, we're...friends."

Jacob takes in Felix's words and the obvious embarrassment rising in his face, and gives a hearty guffaw.

"Friends?" he repeats, his shoulders jerking with short harsh laughs.

"Yes," Felix declares, chin raised defiantly. "She needed someone to look after her for the last six years while you've been _missing_." He gives the last word a sarcastic emphasis, and Jacob's smile becomes a grimace.

"Oh, well, you've certainly done a bang-up job, haven't you?" he mocks, and Felix snaps.

"Impedimenta!" he cries without stopping to think. The spell is unexpected, and Jacob has no time to block it. He throws himself sideways, hitting the floor in a roll and straightening up on the other side of the bed, wand raised defensively.

"Bloody hell, you want to bring whole hospital in here?!"

"Get out, then," demands Felix, breathing rapidly.

Jacob eyes Felix's outstretched wand, then the bed where Juniper remains motionless. With a sigh, he lowers his wand.

"Believe it or not," he says testily, adjusting his too-right robes, "I didn't risk my life and freedom just to come here and have a chinwag with you." He takes a cautious step closer to the head of the bed. "I'm here to help."

"How can you possibly help?"

"I think I know what curse was used on her. I might be able to wake her up."

Hope flickers to life inside Felix, nudging his anger aside. "How could you know that? The professors don't even know."

Jacob gives a derisive snort. "Let's just say, I know the way this organization works." He holds up a hand to stifle Felix's further questions. "But it's too complicated to explain now. Just let me try something."

Taking another step, Jacob lifts his wand again, pointing it toward Juniper.

"Expelliarmus!"

Jacob's wand leaps from his outstretched hand to the floor, where Felix summons it quickly and sticks it into his back pocket. He aims his own wand directly at Jacob's face, now screwed up in irritation.

"Merlin's pants, I said I'm trying to help her!"

"How do I know you're really who you say you are? You could be someone from R disguised as Jacob Windsong come to finish his sister off. Or you could have been working with them all along."

Jacob crosses his arms. "That'd be a pretty stupid disguise, don't you think? I'm wanted by the Ministry _and _Dumbledore _and _several other parties, none of which are looking to buy me a drink. Hardly the best way to get around, got up as a wanted criminal."

True, but Felix doesn't lower his wand. Jacob sighs and spreads his arms wide in supplication.

"How can I prove I'm me, then? You don't know the first thing about me, so it's not like I can answer any questions." He gestures vaguely toward Felix. "I remember meeting you once last year. Or..." He pauses, and obvious unease crosses his features. "No. I suppose... it was quite a few years ago, wasn't it? Time is still a bit..." He waggles his fingers vaguely. "Anyway, I saved your arse from some Gryffindor you were picking on. That do?"**

The only other person Felix has ever related this story to is Juniper. He supposes Jacob himself could have told an associate, but it seems unlikely.

"So, you're you," acknowledges Felix grudgingly, his wand arm beginning to ache. "That doesn't mean you're on her side."

"I have _always_ been on her side," argues Jacob. Felix lets out a "Ha!" of disbelieving laughter, and Jacob's eyes flash. "Look, believe what you like about me, it's probably not half true. But I have always loved Juniper and done everything I could to keep her safe."

Felix laughs again, a harsh sound devoid of any humour. He feels as incensed as Jacob looks.

"You don't think it's killed me to find out everything that's happened to her while I've been trapped?" Jacob protests. "That she's been all on her own? Facing _my _enemies?"

"Then why didn't you stay with her when she found you?" counters Felix. "She's devoted nearly half her life to finding you, at the expense of everything and everyone. And you wouldn't even give her the time of day!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Jacob's voice has risen now, too. "You don't have the first idea what's really going on or what these people are capable of. This isn't over, and Pip won't be safe until it is! I started this mess and I have to finish it. I owe it. To her!"

A brief silence follows this declaration. Felix's wand arm drops a few degrees.

"Pip?" he asks, his voice strained, unsure if it wants to laugh or cry or yell some more.

Jacob blinks. "Juniper," he explains. "That's what I called her. When she was a kid." A very small smile breaks up the storm clouds in his face. "She always hated it."

Jacob's smile is so similar to the genuine one Felix has seen in rare moments on Juniper's own face it causes his stomach to somersault. And the dreadful possibility of never seeing that smile aimed at him again smothers Felix's anger. For a minute, both men can only stare at the girl lying lifeless on the bed, entirely unmoved by their screams or spells. The reality of the danger she's in hovers ominously over them both.

When Jacob speaks again, his voice is soft and urgent. "If you're really her friend, then you'll let me try the counter curse. If I'm wrong, it won't hurt her. I promise."

Felix's wand wavers, then falls. He reaches into his back pocket for Jacob's wand and holds it out to him. Jacob receives it with a short nod of thanks. Gazing down at his sister, he runs a hand over her hair just once, pushing it back from her forehead. Felix feels a quick pang of irrational jealousy. Without further sentiment, the elder Windsong aims his wand at Juniper's temple and mutters something under his breath.

Nothing happens.

Felix waits expectantly for Jacob to try again, but the man simply tucks his wand away and addresses Felix.

"Listen, when she wakes up - "

"What do you mean, 'when she wakes up'?" Felix interrupts. "It didn't work."

Jacob shakes his head. "It will. Or it should. It isn't instant. But, I think the curse is lifted, she's just asleep now. Look." He tilts his head in the direction of Juniper's chest, which Felix realises with a jolt is now rising and falling gently. "She'll wake up soon, and when she does she's going to have a bit of a time adjusting. That curse can give you some pretty rough nightmares."

"I think nightmares will be the least of her problems. They -" Felix's voice catches. "They don't even know if she'll be sane."

Jacob glances down again and for the first time his face isn't the confident mask Felix has only ever seen on him.

"I - I can't do anything about that," says Jacobs haltingly, watching his sister's slight breathing. His face tightens once more. "All I can do is make sure no one gets to her again."

With that, Jacob moves briskly toward the door. A quick side step allows Felix to grab the older man's arm before he reaches it.

"No," Felix objects firmly. "You need to be here when she wakes up. She'll want to see you."

"No, I need to go find who did this to her," Jacob argues, trying to wrench his arm away and surprised when he's unable to break Felix's grip. Felix smirks. What three years of working with dragons has done for his muscle definition is not his least favourite post-Hogwarts accomplishment.

"So, revenge is more important to you than your sister?"

"Taking care of her is most important." Jacob makes another effort to jerk his arm away from Felix, but the dragonologist holds on fast.

"She doesn't need you to take care of her. She needs you to be here with her. You're her family."

Jacob throws his head back, growling in frustration.

"Listen," he pleads. "Once she wakes, this place will be swarming with healers and aurors and people who are looking for me. We can hardly be a proper family if I'm locked in a cell, can we?"

"So, you're just going to leave her. Again."

"I have to."

Felix shakes his head at the man in front of him, then releases his arm in disgust.

Felix had always assumed Jacob Windsong was dead. Not that he would ever tell Juniper. His memory of Jacob, and the way Juniper described him, Felix couldn't imagine any other possible scenario. Why else would he leave the sister he so clearly cared for? A sister he doted on, wrote to constantly, treated like a best friend. At least, that was how Juniper had always described their relationship. But as he stares at the door now closed behind Jacob, Felix has to wonder just how reliable Juniper's memories of her brother really were.

* * *

His thoughts are interrupted by a scream.

Anyone who works in close proximity to dragons becomes quickly accustomed to screams. In three years, Felix has heard men, women, and children shriek in terror at the sight of a soaring Vipertooth. He can distinguish howls of agony caused by dragonfire meeting skin from the anguished wails at its destruction of homes and villages. He himself has screamed in pain as a dragon's talon rips cleanly through the skin of his throat.

But this scream is different. It's the sort that chills the blood. A bottomless sound of torment and hopelessness, like Felix has never heard. And instead of inspiring him to action, as screams have come to do, this excruciating noise makes him want to hide. He knows the sound is coming from the bed behind him, which means there's only one logical source.

Two people in lime-green robes burst through the door, nearly knocking Felix over in their rush to reach the bed. Felix can only hope they're trustworthy trainees because he's neglected to ask for the password. He cannot think at all as the healers draw their wands, speaking rapidly to each other, trying various spells and incantations. But nothing they cast alters the scream by a decibel.

Felix closes his eyes, unable to face the bed. He cannot watch Juniper make that terrible noise; doesn't want to connect that sound with her. He stands entirely frozen as the scream drags on, fighting the urge to cover his ears or run from the room entirely, until a forceful hand grips his shoulder and shakes him.

"What's happened?"

Felix recognises the voice distantly.

"She... she started screaming," he answers, his own voice coming to him from far away.

There's a snort of exasperation. "Yes, that's obvious, but what did they do? How did they wake her?"

When Felix doesn't answer, the hand shakes his shoulder again, the force rattling his teeth. It clears Felix's head just enough for him to focus on the disfigured man from before. He's staring intently at Felix with his normal eye, the strange blue one rolled back in his head. Beyond him, Felix catches sight of Professor Snape hunched over the bed next to the frantic healers.

"Answer me! What-"

The man breaks off abruptly, and a different sort of ringing fills Felix's ears. It's a few seconds before he recognises the sound as silence. The screaming has stopped. Ignoring the man in front of him, Felix cranes his neck so he can see to the bed where Juniper has fallen back against the pillow. Panic reasserting itself, he tries to push forward, but the man has Felix's shoulder in a vice.

"You! Boy! You were supposed to be guarding her. What happened? She didn't just wake up like this on her own."

"Yes, she did," Felix snaps. "I mean, she just started screaming, I don't know if she was awake. Her brother said-"

"Jacob Windsong was here?" Both the man's eyes are on Felix now, and even Snape has whipped around in alarm.

"Yes. He came to see Juniper. He-" Felix draws a shaky breath, trying to collect his thoughts, still scattered by the unearthly scream. "He said he could help her. That he knew what curse was cast on her."

The man shakes Felix again, this time in eagerness. "What did he say the curse was? How did he counter it?"

Felix steps back, wrenching his shoulder away from the heavily scarred man.

"He didn't say."

"He didn't say what the curse was or he didn't say how to counter it?"

A dull throb has sprung to life in Felix's temple, and he rubs at his forehead in weary frustration.

"Neither. He didn't...didn't say anything specific."

The man's blue eye rolls madly in its socket. "You didn't ask him? You let him cast a spell on Windsong and didn't bother to ask what it was?"

Felix can feel the embarrassment crawl across his face, but doesn't answer, just digs his heels against his eyes until he sees stars.

The man utters a low sound of disgust and limps heavily to the bed, edging between the trainee healers to get a better look at Juniper. Snape takes the man's place in front of Felix, his expression hard and calculating.

"Did Jacob Windsong say anything else?"

Felix has no desire to recount his conversation with Juniper's brother, so he shakes his head.

"Nothing important." Snape's eyes flash dangerously, and Felix hastens to add. "He said...he just said he was trying to keep Juniper safe. From R."

"For all we know it wasn't even the Windsong boy," calls the other man from the bedside. "Could have been any one of the outfit in disguise, and this idiot wouldn't know the difference."

Irritation pulses against Felix's skull.

"As a matter of fact, I thought of that as well. But he knew things that only the real Jacob Windsong would know."

"Did he now?" asks the man condescendingly.

"Yes," Felix insists. "It was him. I'm sure of it."

The man merely makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, a laugh or a hacking cough. He throws himself into the armchair now pressed against the wall to make more room around the bed. One of the trainee healers moves as well, busying himself over the bedside table, and Felix catches sight of Juniper. She's still, but breathing regularly.

"What did you do her? Why was she screaming? Will she be alright?"

Felix directs his question at the healers, but it's Snape who answers him.

"They have given her a Draught of Peace, but we do not know any more than you, Mr Rosier. It is still unclear what curse she was under or why she was unresponsive. Are you sure Jacob Windsong didn't-"

"Rosier? Did you say Rosier?"

The scarred man stands slowly, both eyes fixed unblinkingly on Felix.

"You wouldn't be related to the late Evan Rosier, now, would you?" he asks, gnarled hand clenching around his wand.

"He was my cousin," answers Felix, confused by this strange change of subject.

What's left of the man's nose seems to quiver in unspeakable rage, as he draws himself up to full height.

"Well now. That's one mystery solved. No wonder he couldn't ask any pertinent questions." He advances on Felix with a menacing limp. "He's probably in league with R, himself. Sent here by the lot of them to keep tabs on her, were you?"

Felix retreats against the wall to keep the man's wand from poking him in the chest. He's so taken aback, it's several seconds before he feels fear, and another before he feels anger. There's no time to formulate a scathing retort, however, before Snape steps between them. He holds his wand at his side casually, but Felix notices the Professor's knuckles are white.

"Moody, I can assure you Mr Rosier is not in league with R."

Felix can see the man's lips move in response, but his ears have stopped working.

"Moody?" he repeats, his exhausted brain trying to call up the meaning associated with the name. "Mad-Eye Moody?"

And Felix remembers. His father white as a sheet, his mother sobbing, ministry officials delivering the news impassively. Felix isn't sure how he feels. All he can think of is what his father would say if he knew he was the same room as the man who killed Evan.

"Yeah, that's right, boy." Moody's mouth twists into a grotesque sneer. "Know who I am, do you? Surprised you and your Death Eater family don't have my picture up for target practice."

It isn't the first time Felix has heard an accusation like this, not by a long shot. But it's been so many years, it takes a moment for the old indignation and shame to uncoil within him, like an aged dragon.

"I am _not_ a Death Eater," he seethes, voice shaking.

"We'll soon find out." Moody retorts, and makes a grab for Felix's left arm. Snape steps in front of the scarred hand, and for a moment the two men glare at each other, wands half-raised.

"Please, not in here," says a timid voice from near the bed. One of the trainee healers wrings his hands nervously as he watches the scuffling men by the door. "I'm... I'm afraid I...I must insist you take this outside. This patient is still seriously injured. She needs...to rest." The trainee grips the bedstead to support his weight, as if this short speech has drained him of all energy.

Moody takes a step a back, glowering at Felix and Snape. He's breathing hard, whereas Felix isn't sure he can breathe at all.

"Get out," demands the auror.

"What? No!" protests Felix. "I haven't done anything wrong, you can't-"

His argument is cut short by Snape, who grabs Felix's upper arm and pulls him from the room, releasing him only when the door is shut firmly behind them. Felix stumbles, rubbing at his bruised arm.

"Professor, I swear, I made sure it was Jacob Windsong. I didn't just let anyone waltz in here. And he woke her up, didn't he? He helped her! I-"

"Mr Rosier," Snape interjects. "No one is doubting your devotion to Miss Windsong. But there is nothing more you can do for her now. You've been here nearly an entire day, and if I'm not mistaken, you have an important interview in the morning. I suggest you take some time to... " He eyes Felix's wrinkled robes and uncharacteristically disheveled hair: "Prepare yourself."

Felix blinks. He turns automatically to the window for some indication of the time. The streaky glass reveals darkness, though Felix isn't sure it can be trusted to show the sky's actual appearance since it's secretly a door. He hasn't thought to check the time once since he's been here, has entirely forgotten the world outside the hospital room. None of it seems of any importance in light of Juniper's peril. But this job at the Romanian Reserve is a rare opportunity. And if he misses his interview, there's no knowing when the position will come available again.

As if he can read Felix's thoughts, Snape adds, "I doubt very much whether Miss Windsong would appreciate if you missed your interview on her account." And Felix cannot argue against that.

"I'll come back. After the interview." It's a statement, not a request.

Snape arches an eyebrow but makes no other response. Felix takes a reluctant step back.

"And if something were to happen to her before then...would you...let me know?"

The Potions Master's slow blink is his only indication of assent.

Felix takes another step, then pauses, shuffling his feet. His fingers come up to trace the scar on his neck unconsciously.

"Professor." Felix meets Snape's eyes imploringly. "I'm not any of the things he said. Moody. I'm not - I'm not a Death Eater."

Snape's face is still entirely inscrutable, but he gives the smallest of nods as he answers, "I know, Felix."

* * *

***A/N:** This is a reference to one of the last bits of the Quidditch Season 1 storyline (which I'm aware is technically supposed to take place in MC's second year, but which in my story is moved to her third.) The title of the article is my own invention.  
****A/N:** Reference to my Felix Rosier backstory Four Things Felix Rosier Remembered.


	5. Chapter 5

_Summary: _  
_"Isn't it considered ungentlemanly to keep a lady in suspense? Especially after she's nearly been killed?"_  
_"How many times do you plan on using that?"_  
_"As many as I can before the novelty wears off."_

* * *

Felix is lucky he's already garnered a reputation for himself at the Romanian Reserve. He's sure he would never pass this interview otherwise. He can't remember half the things he's learned about international dragon research regulations, and completely fumbles the telling of his team's recent successful capture. But the Reserve Liaison cannot stop shaking Felix's hand, awed to meet the young man who "caught a Common Welsh Green at seventeen, quite remarkable!" He assures Felix the paperwork will be finalised and forwarded to Romania that very day, and by tomorrow, Felix will officially be the Reserve's Junior Resident Dragonologist for the Peruvian Vipertooth.

"You'll be such an exciting addition! So many brilliant young people there just at present. Makes me wish I weren't retired to an office, but, the missus does like her quiet life."

Felix manages a polite smile, and the Liaison pumps his hand a final time.

The job he's dreamed of since childhood is his. And it's a beautiful early summer morning that greets Felix as he steps onto the sidewalk outside the Ministry for Magic guest entrance. By rights, it should be the best day of his life. If the sound of Juniper's eldritch scream wasn't replaying in the back of his head every few minutes.

Felix sets off down the deserted street in a random direction. Freshly washed and laundered, and no work required of him for the rest of the day, he knows he should be apparating back to St Mungo's to check on Juniper's condition. But a strange reluctance tugs his feet around a corner and onto a walk bustling with muggles. He doesn't know what to expect upon his return; Juniper once again laid out like a corpse on white sheets, or wide-eyed and wailing, unable to escape whatever horrors that curse had inflicted upon her.

Shuddering at the memory, Felix's eyes squeeze shut briefly and he bumps into a couple turning a corner in his direction. The woman holds up a hand in quick apology, her other hand caught fast by the man beside her. Eyeing Felix, the man pulls his companion closer so they take up less room on the walk. The woman giggles, melting against him, and Felix is forgotten as they traipse away, wrapped entirely in each other.

It's exactly the sort of casual romantic display Felix dreams of, and his heart aches with a desperate longing. His evenings of the last year have been filled with similar fantasies: meeting Juniper somewhere in passing, chatting her up charmingly, letting her see how much older he is now, how much more confident and impressive. One particularly alluring daydream he indulges in often involves rescuing Juniper from some dangerous enemy and comforting her from the subsequent fear, until his embrace wipes away all memory of the horror she's experienced.

Felix stops abruptly, and the man behind him almost runs him down. He swears at Felix loudly, then rights himself and speeds away. Felix takes almost no notice. What on earth is he doing here, strolling past muggle shops, while Juniper is in pain, alone with only abrasive healers, and murderous aurors, and, well, Snape, to provide any sort of comfort?

* * *

Fiery indignation at his own cowardice burns a hole through Felix's chest. This is hardly his fantasy; he's never imagined her tortured or half-dead in hospital. But it's still an opportunity. Perhaps_ the_ opportunity. To show her the precise depth of his feelings in a way she cannot misunderstand.

Felix pats his inner pocket. He still has the letter he spent an entire night composing. And a whole day before he has to be in Romania.

* * *

The hospital is a good deal less crowded when Felix returns that afternoon. He bypasses the help-witch, nose firmly in the air, exits the stairs at the fourth floor and wanders down the main corridor, trying to remember the sequence of hallways leading to Juniper's hidden room. As he walks, he becomes aware of voices in the distance. Vaguely familiar voices, though he can't place how he knows them. The sounds grow clearer the farther Felix walks, and just before he turns onto the final dead-end hallway, he recognises one.

"Barnaby?"

The young man's head whips around, eyes comically wide as he stares at Felix. Felix stares right back, taking in the tableau in front of the dirty window in disbelief. Barnaby Lee has his arm around a tear-stained Rowan Khanna. Propped on the windowsill behind them, Felix can make out Penny Haywood and, his heart thuds unpleasantly, Charlie Weasley, hands shoved deep into his pockets. In front of the sixth-year students, a tall healer with long, black hair lounges against a door. Her face is sharp and forbidding, until she blows a large pink bubble from her chewing gum and pops it loudly.

"Maybe he can help?" says the healer, jerking her chin at Felix.

"Felix!" Barnaby rushes up the hall. "Are you here about Juniper, too? Have you seen her yet?"

"Do you know if she's okay?" Rowan asks, trailing behind Barnaby and wiping her eyes on her scarf.

"What-what on earth are you all doing here?" Felix stutters.

"Why? Did we get the wrong hall?" The strangely impish healer cocks her head curiously. "I swear this is the one Snape turned down this morning. I just didn't see what door he went through."

"It doesn't matter, they're all locked anyway," adds the Weasley boy, shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

Felix's shock gives way to irritation. "I mean - how did you get here? You're all supposed to be in school!"

The healer chuckles around her wad of chewing gum.

"We're here to see Juniper," explains Rowan in a rush. "They said she was attacked but no one will say anything about what happened or how she is, just that she was here. And then Chiara told us the fireplace in Madam Pomfrey's office is connected to one here so she can communicate with the healers, and so Tulip distracted her by letting off a bunch of dung-"

"Rowan!" cries Penny from the window, "You're going to get us all in trouble!"

Rowan gives a choked sob and Barnaby drapes his arm around her again.

"It's okay, Felix will help. He wants to see Juniper, too." Barnaby looks expectantly at his former prefect. "Do you know where she is?"

Felix is entirely lost for what to do. He's never even heard of students sneaking from the school as far away as London; the amount of house points that's likely to cost them makes the old prefect within him feel faint. He knows he ought to enforce their immediate return to school, but a five-to-one duel in a cramped hallway seems unwise.

"Look," he sighs. "I don't think Juniper is up to visitors just yet. She isn't - isn't well."

"You've seen her?" gasps Rowan.

"How is she?" asks Penny, jumping up from the windowsill and hurrying toward him, Charlie and the odd healer following closely.

Felix takes a step back from the throng of eager students. They look like a nest of newly hatched Vipertooths all edging toward him with hungry expressions, and he has to make a conscious effort not to draw his wand for protection.

"Like, I said, she's not well."

"But she's alive?" Charlie insists.

Felix's eyes narrow at the red head. "Yes."

There's a chorus of relieved murmurs.

"But she needs rest," Felix continues. "She's still...still - hurt." he finishes, unable to think of a better way to describe her condition.

"If she's hurt, she needs some cheering up!" the healer says brightly. "Who better to do that than her friends?"

Felix looks the woman up and down. "Which friend are you?"

The healer's entire body suddenly shifts, and he recognises the pink-haired Hufflepuff from the Quidditch after-party.

"Tonks," she says with a wink and another pop of her gum.

"Please, Felix," begs Rowan. "We just want to see her. We won't stay long."

Felix flounders. His desire to send them all away and speak to Juniper alone battles his itch to return to her side as quickly as possible.

"Look, when I left she was asleep. And there isn't much room in there-" Felix breaks off as he remembers Juniper's ever-present guard. If it's Snape, he'll have each student in detention every evening for the next year. And if it's Moody, well, he might just jinx the lot of them. "Alright then, hurry up before someone sees."

Felix edges around the teenagers to the end of the hall, and taps the window with his wand. The lock clicks, the door swings open, and he steps aside to let Juniper's friends push into the tiny room. He leans against the doorway where he can duck out of the line of fire if necessary, but neither Snape nor Moody are inside. Instead, it's the nervous trainee healer from last night who jumps up from the bedside chair.

"Who are you? What's going on?" He points his shaking wand from person to person, finally settling it on Tonks, again disguised as the severe looking healer, who draws herself up to full height.

"It's alright! I have given us - that is - these students permission to visit Juniper, er, Miss Windsong. Which I can do, being a fully qualified healer and all."

Felix snorts quietly and turns his attention to the bed. He does a double-take, pushing himself quickly off the door frame. Juniper is sitting up, staring at the horde of people packed into her room.

"What's the password, then?" demands the trainee, his challenge belied by the obvious fear in his voice.

"Ah, the password, yes..." Tonks waffles. She flicks her eyes to the students around her, all as clueless as she. "Well, I definitely know it. And...it is..."

"Dragon Heart-String."

The words from the door cause the trainee to promptly drops his wand, then almost drop it a second time when he recognises Felix.

"It's alright," Felix assures the young man. "They're not dangerous. But they're not supposed to be here. Would you mind sending an owl to Hogwarts letting them know some students have escaped? Post it care of Professor Snape, if you please. I'll keep watch."

Juniper's gang of devotees all look at Felix askance. Someone at the back, and Felix has a sneaking suspicion who, mutters mutinously.

The trainee healer hesitates for only a second before nodding and scurrying from the room, doubling back just before Felix shuts the door. The young man points the chewed-up nail of his index finger at the bedside table.

"She's supposed to take a draught for dreamless sleep in a minute. It's the blue one. Will you -"

"I'll make sure she drinks it," Felix confirms, and leans back against the closed door.

"Juniper?" ventures Penny cautiously, taking the seat by the bed. "Are you...are you alright?"

Juniper, uncharacteristically silent through all the excitement, blinks at her friend.

"I'm sorry," she says in a low, hoarse voice. "Do I know any of you?"

The room is deathly quiet. For several seconds, no one seems to breathe, and Felix is sure his heart has stopped beating. Then, the ghost of Juniper's lop-sided smile appears.

"You should see your faces," she chuckles feebly.

Felix's intake of breath sounds like a gasp, but no one hears it over Rowan's fresh burst of tears and the appreciative laughs from Charlie and Tonks.

"Nice one, Juniper!" The once-again pink-haired Hufflepuff collapses onto the foot of the bed. "Nearly had me on!"

"Juniper, that was awful!" chides Penny in a hurt voice. Barnaby continues to look confused, and bends down to whisper a question to the glassy-eyed Rowan.

"C'mon, I can't have my little joke? I did nearly die." While her humour has apparently made a full recovery, Juniper's voice sounds frail to Felix, and worry gnaws little holes in his stomach.

"Blimey, did you really?" Tonks asks, almost awed. Charlie nudges her in the side with his elbow and she tumbles from the bed.

"But you're okay now, right?" Charlie asks in concern. "What happened?"

Something in Juniper's eyes goes abruptly dark, like curtains drawn across windows. "I don't know. I can't remember anything."

"Is this another trick?" asks Penny nervously, but Juniper shakes her head. The movement is slight, a quick angle of her chin to either side, but it makes her flinch. The sight of Juniper in obvious pain shakes the rest of the shock from Felix.

"Alright, you lot, that's enough. You've seen her and she's alive, so off you go."

Every person in the room begins to protest at the same time, and Felix has to raise his voice to be heard over the clamour.

"Snape is on the way," he reminds them. That silences the lot. "Now, he knows there are students here, but he doesn't know who. If you clear out before he arrives, he may not know whom to punish."

"Won't you just tell him?" argues Charlie from the corner.

Felix considers him coolly. "I can tell Snape I didn't recognise anyone." Barnaby grins, and Felix fixes him with his best prefect's glare. "If you all leave now."

The sixth years exchange calculating looks with one another, then Penny gets to her feet.

"We'll come back and see you when term's over," she promises Juniper, to murmurs of agreement.

Tonks pops her gum again as she scrambles off the bed. "And we'll send you loads of sweets!"

"Yeah, Mum says the food here is rubbish," agrees Charlie.

They congregate at the edge of the bed as if unsure of the proper goodbye to give someone covered in countless angry cuts. Juniper relieves them of the decision by lifting her trembling hand in a little wave, which her friends return before filing out the door. Only Rowan breaks away and rushes for the bed. She throws her arms carelessly around Juniper, who winces but pats her friend's back lightly.

"I'm so glad you're alive," Rowan sniffs.

"I'm always alive," Juniper reassures her. "Everything's alright. Now, go! Get revising, please. You'll have to help me catch up later."

Rowan straightens with a shaky smile and returns to the waiting Barnaby. The door closes behind them with a quiet click.

Juniper leans back, eyes closed. Felix can now see she's not so much sitting as propped up by several large, fluffy pillows. Her body sags against them, seemingly unable to support its own weight.

He clears his throat, and Juniper's eyes snap open.

"Merlin's beard, I didn't know you were still here!" she groans, pushing herself up weakly, and fixing a smile back onto her face. Felix's heart breaks at the sad display.

"Stop," he orders gently, crossing the room to take the bedside chair. "Don't sit up, you need to rest."

"I'm fine," Juniper argues, her anemic voice entirely unconvincing. Felix presses on her shoulder lightly, but she collapses against the pillows as if he had shoved her.

"Don't even try that bit on me, Juniper. You can fool your friends, but I saw you unconscious. _And_ I saw you wake up." The blush flooding her face looks like overdone rouge, emphasising how unnaturally pale she still is. Felix grimaces at it as he continues, "You're about as far from fine as it's possible to be."

"No, _yesterday_ I was as far from fine as it's possible to be. Today, I'm a good deal closer."

Felix scans Juniper critically. She's still sickly-looking and pale, the cuts standing out against her skin like violent freckles. And her fingers continue to twitch where they rest at her sides. But she's so much more alive than the last time he saw her, and he can't detect any obvious signs of madness. Relief envelopes him like a warm blanket.

"Felix?" Juniper interrupts his inspection. "Is it true my brother was here?"

Felix wonders which thoughtless person mentioned this and what story they told. He briefly considers lying, but thinks better of it.

"Yes," he admits. "He was the one who woke you up."

"Did you speak to him? What did he say?" Excitement is obvious even in her unsteady voice and a fresh surge of jealousy at Jacob Windsong courses through Felix.

"He just said...he was sorry he dragged you into all this. And...that he... loves you."

A small, almost embarrassed smile graces Juniper's features for a moment, then fades as she remembers, "But he didn't stay."

Felix can only shake his head, determined to hex Jacob first thing the next time they met for the look of pitiful hurt on his sister's face.

"That was it? He didn't say where he was going to be? What he was going to do next?"

This line of questioning makes Felix nervous, and he chooses his words carefully.

"He said he wanted you to be safe. Whatever he's doing, I don't think he wants you to follow him."

"Don't worry, I'm not about to go anywhere right now."

Juniper wriggles back against her pillows, and reaches across to the bedside table for the draught of dreamless sleep. She lifts the bottle toward her, but drops it onto her lap accidentally. She picks it up and fumbles it again, her trembling fingers unable to keep hold of the glass for more than a second.

"Here, let me," offers Felix but she pushes his hand away with a grumbled, "I've got it."

Juniper clenches the bottle between her knees to keep it still and tries to tug on the cork, but her twitching fingers refuse to grip. After a minute of struggling, she throws her arms down with a noise of frustration.

Delicately, Felix plucks the bottle from her lap and uncorks it with ease. He holds it out, unsure exactly what to do next. He catches Juniper's eye and she attempts to smile, as if in a shared joke. But he can tell the need for assistance causes her as much pain as her injuries. She leans forward and allows him to tilt the liquid into her mouth, then falls back again, eyes closed and face a garish shade of pink.

"Thank you."

"Of course," says Felix. He means to sound cheerful and unconcerned, but it comes out too high pitched. "It's just a side effect of the c- I mean, just... everything you've been through. I'm sure it will right itself. Or they'll find some way of fixing it. The healers here are supposed to be the best." He shuts his lips tightly over his nervous prattle, and worries a finger over the scar on his neck.

Juniper says nothing. Felix wonders if she's heard him at all, or if the potion has already worked it's magic. Until she murmurs his name sleepily, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Felix?"

"Yes?"

"If my brother comes again, will you wake me? Please?"

The pleasurable sensation dies.

"I will," he promises.

* * *

Once Juniper is safely asleep, Felix settles back into the armchair, grateful for the extra time to think. Something about this fresh reminder of Juniper's condition has set his confidence off-kilter. If she's preoccupied with her injuries, she may not be in the right frame of mind to receive his admission with the enthusiasm he would prefer. He broods on this for a while, considering the correct approach.

Felix pulls the letter from his pocket and turns it over in his fingers. He remembers the gist of its contents, but the desire to re-read it in light of Juniper's new circumstances is too strong to be ignored. Glancing around, he unseals the envelope carefully and straightens out the parchment.

A few second's quick reading, and Felix's face is a shiny, brick-red. The colour only grows with each successive line. He makes it half-way through the letter before he's forced to thrust the parchment back into his pocket out of self-defense, mortification squeezing his head so fiercely he's afraid his eyes might pop. Had he really written this just days ago and felt proud of it? Even intended to send it? Felix shudders at the thought of any one ever reading what he clearly wrote in a fit of sleep-deprived pique. It's a sappy, sopping mess of pretentious lines and flowery adjectives.

Embarrassment prickles against his skin like tiny needles, and Felix leaps to his feet, unable to sit still. He paces the small space between the door and the wall. Barely half a dozen steps, back and forth, over and over again, until the noxious tide of shame begins to ebb. He takes several deep breaths, running his hands over his hair and smoothing it flat to his head.

Perhaps he's a bit hard on himself. Love is something words are hardly ever able to do justice, and it's not as though he has much practice. Felix pulls a corner of the parchment from his pocket and peeks at it again. A second glance suggests his confession might not be _complete_ drivel. It contains a dramatic flair that could, perhaps, appeal to an average seventeen year old. But it's not remotely the sort of thing to interest a girl who's just been tortured nearly to death.

That's the trouble with Juniper Windsong. She isn't easy to impress. Which of his accomplishments from the last three years can stand up to hers? Any danger he's faced, she's faced worse. She's the _cursebreaker, _after all. The hero who's saved Hogwarts more times than he can count.

Felix rubs at the scar on his neck in distraction. Now he thinks about it from that perspective, he isn't sure what he has to offer the young woman asleep on the bed. She eschews protection, hardly needs assistance, clearly has no lack of dedicated friends. Why has she even bothered keeping up with him all these years? It's clear she doesn't need him for anything.

Misery dulling his senses, Felix nearly crashes into Snape as the professor opens the door abruptly. Behind him is the curly-haired healer from yesterday and her nervous trainee. And, Felix takes a step back in surprise, Professor Dumbledore. Felix dips his hand into his pocket, but Snape gives the password before Felix can produce his wand.

The healer stomps roughly past him to the bed-side table. The sounds of violently clinking bottles echo around the still room.

"I still do not see _why_ this has to be done right this minute," she seethes.

"Healer Early, you know I would not bother your patient if it weren't of the utmost importance." Dumbledore approaches the other side of the bed, looking down at Juniper's sleeping form. "The more we know about this attack, the greater our chance of catching the perpetrators."

"I understand your priorities, Headmaster, but this girl has hardly been conscious a day. You're far more likely to get helpful information if you allow her to rest and recover than if you press her mind at this delicate stage."

Dumbledore makes another apologetic reply, but Felix's attention is captured by Snape who jerks his head pointedly at the still-open door. With a quick glance at Juniper, now sandwiched between the arguing healer and headmaster, Felix follows. The lock hasn't even clicked behind him before Snape is in his face and whispering urgently.

"Has Miss Windsong said anything to you about her attack?"

"She said she couldn't remember anything."

Snape's eyes bore into Felix's from an uncomfortably close proximity. Felix tries to angle his head away from the Potion Master's unpleasant breath without being too obvious.

"And I don't suppose you could be relied upon for any useful information?"

"Like I said before, I didn't notice anything unusual."

For a moment, Felix fears Snape's eyes will actually burn a hole right through him. Then the Potions Master relents, drawing back with unconcealed contempt. In spite of the fact that he's been graduated for years, Felix can't help feel a quick stab of shame at disappointing his former head of house. He steels himself against it, focusing instead on his most recent concern.

"Professor," Felix begins tentatively. "The healer said yesterday that - that Juniper...that she didn't expect Juniper to be alright, even if she did wake up. And earlier, she couldn't - " A sudden lump rises in his throat, and he has to swallow hard to dislodge it. "Juniper couldn't hold her own potion bottle. Let alone open it. She's still - I mean, her hands aren't..." He trails away, kicking himself for sounding so scattered in front of Snape, whose opinion of Felix has clearly taken a significant dip.

"It will get better soon, won't it?" he finishes childishly.

There's the merest flicker of something in the Potion Master's eyes, too quick for Felix to identify before his inscrutable mask is back in place.

"It's difficult to say." Snape replies quietly, his own fingers rubbing against the palms of his hands unconsciously. "With therapy and the regular administration of certain restorative draughts, Miss Windsong may achieve some limited mobility within a year."

The sensation of his jaw actually dropping is distantly strange to Felix. His mouth feels both dry and heavy, and completely unfamiliar with the formation of words. For a few seconds, he can only emit cracked syllables. He has to physically shake his head from side to side to reset his brain.

"A _year_? Professor, what.. what is she going to do? How will she go to school if she can't hold her own wand? She has NEWTs this-"

"Mr Rosier." Snape cuts off Felix's frantic questions tartly. "As tragic as her condition undoubtedly is, Miss Windsong has brought this upon herself with her absolute refusal to pay even the slightest attention to the rules put in place for her own safety." He raises his voice a fraction over Felix's choking noise. "_However,_ the Headmaster has made a habit the last six years of allowing Miss Windsong an excessive amount of exemptions from rules and consequences. I doubt very much he will stop now. And you may rest assured she will have the best care St Mungo's can provide. There is no reason to overburden yourself with worry about her physical condition.

"What you _can _do," Snape pauses, ensuring he has Felix's undivided attention. "Is inform me immediately if Miss Windsong mentions anything about her attack. And if you notice anything out of the ordinary about her in the coming months."

"What do you mean?"

Snape pauses, and Felix has the distinct impression he's searching for a way to explain without revealing something important.

"If Miss Windsong appears in any way out of character, it may be worth noting. We do not yet know what curse she was under nor whether it has lasting effects. It would be prudent for the people closest to her to keep an eye."

"Professor, I'm... I'm supposed to report to Romania. Tomorrow," Felix realises with a start and suddenly wonders at the hour. Time seems to stand still in the hospital room. "I suppose I could ask to postpone-"

Snape's black brows travel the length of his forehead in an expression almost like surprise. He casts an appraising look at Felix.

"I do not think that will be necessary. I believe you and Miss Windsong...correspond?" he sneers. Felix's blush is so habitual by now he hardly notices as he gives a short nod. "If her writing gives any indication that she may not be herself, you may simply send an owl."

There's the sound of breaking glass from behind him, and Felix turns instinctively to find Dumbledore ducking swiftly from the room. He nods at Felix sombrely.

"Mr Rosier, Miss Windsong has asked if you would speak to her before you leave. Although," he smiles, the expression not meeting his eyes, "You may be required to duel Healer Early for that particular privilege."

* * *

Felix creeps around the edge of the door cautiously and runs straight into the irate healer.

"Young man, Miss Windsong needs rest just now," she pronounces in clipped tones.

From behind her, Juniper's wobbly voice says, "Miss Windsong is right here and she's fine."

"You are most assuredly not fine," the healer snaps. "It's a marvel you're awake at all. I wouldn't have put any money on it."

"I've been through worse," Juniper insists.

Fury snorts from the healer's nostrils like a Chinese Fireball. "I sincerely doubt that."

Recognising a brick wall, Juniper changes tact in a heartbeat.

"Please, Healer Early. I've been through a lot the last day and I just want to speak to a friend for a few minutes. You know, to help calm myself down before I go back to sleep."

Felix hides his smirk behind a closed fist, feigning a cough, while Healer Early narrows her eyes at Juniper suspiciously. She glances at the trainee healer clearing up broken glass by the bedside table, and spins on her heel to face Felix again.

"Five minutes. Not a second more." She pushes past him forcefully and marches from the room. Felix can hear her footsteps rage down the hall even as he takes the seat beside the bed.

"Is everything alright?" he asks without thinking, "With Dumbledore I mean. Was he angry?"

"No, not particularly, he's used to me by now I suppose. Didn't even take any house points. But never mind that," Juniper waves the topic aside with a shaking hand. "I forgot to ask how your interview went?"

Her face is more alive than Felix has seen it since her attack, and nerves squirm pleasantly in the region of his abdomen.

"As expected," he says casually.

"_Ugh,_" Juniper groans in mock frustration, "Isn't it considered ungentlemanly to keep a lady in suspense? Especially after she's nearly been killed?"

Felix matches Juniper's ironic expression, with the addition of one arched eyebrow.

"How many times do you plan on using that?"

"As many as I can before the novelty wears off." She grins, and it cracks his cool mask.

"I was accepted, of course."

Juniper laughs, a sound of joy that wavers only slightly, and something about her enthusiasm is catching. The sight of her so much better than yesterday unravels the knot of worry inside him and for the first time he's able to feel the full excitement of his achievement.

"Felix, that's incredible! When do you start?"

"Tomorrow, actually," he says, and has to fight to keep giddy elation from his voice.

"Tomorrow?" Juniper's eyes widen in alarm. "What on earth are you doing here, then? You should be getting ready!"

And it suddenly occurs to Felix how very unprepared he is to start a brand new position in less than twenty-four hours. He hasn't had a moment to look through any of the documents the liaison had given him, hasn't replenished any of his supplies or had any of his clothes repaired. He feels dizzy under this sudden avalanche of new worries, and he wonders vaguely when the last time he ate was.

"I've...got time," he says evasively, and Juniper rolls her eyes.

"Oh please, Felix. You know you'll want to make a packing list and go over it at least three times. And you like to arrive early to get a lay of the land before you start. I'm surprised you didn't leave as soon as the interview was over." Felix glows a little at how well she knows him.

"I needed to check on you first."

Juniper makes a scoffing sound reminiscent of Healer Early's. "Felix, I'm fine. Yes, yes, I know I'm hurt," she admits quickly over his light protests, "I mean, I'll _be_ fine. I'm sure that healer's exaggerating a bit. Bet I'm good as new by the end of the summer."

The trainee healer makes a small, strangled noise and Juniper glances at him defiantly.

"I mean, she didn't think I'd ever wake up, did she?" she fires at the nervous young man. "I managed that, didn't I? I always do. So go!" She commands the last to Felix gesturing toward the door.

Felix stands reluctantly. The letter is still stuffed into his inner pocket. Felix can feel the slight shape of the crumpled parchment against his side. But he can't give that bit of rubbish to her now. He shoots a dark look at the trainee, now wringing his hands uncomfortably. Why is there always someone around when he needs to say a proper goodbye to Juniper?

"Wait," she struggles herself into a sitting position, and holds out her arms toward him with a smile. "Come here." His obedience is automatic.

It's a weaker embrace than what they shared just days ago. Juniper's arms can't clutch him to her quite as tightly, and Felix's touch is delicate for fear of hurting her. But it feels so good to be pressed against her again, and he soaks up every ounce of closeness he can. She pulls away almost reluctantly, and the way her eyes linger on his lips as she looks at him...Felix wishes he knew a spell to capture that precise expression. In that moment, he is positive Juniper wants to kiss him. He knows it with the same certainty he knows his own feelings. And that knowledge is enough. For now.

"You'll write and tell me how you're doing?" he asks.

"Of course," she agrees.

The trainee healer clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. And it isn't until Felix is back in his room at the Leaky Cauldron, rushing to put together everything he'll need to begin the job he's dreamed of his entire life, that he wonders how Juniper will be able to hold a quill.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Well, as of recent game updates, my story is now AU. I considered rewriting this chapter, and I do reserve the right to go back and change it later to keep to canon. But for now, I'd like this chapter to stand in memory of a character that had no business dying (looking at you, JC).**

_Summary: "I need a favor."  
"You what?"  
"Don't be a prick."  
"Oh, off to a champion start, you are."_

* * *

The only thing worse than an alarm clock is an enchanted alarm clock. Felix is sure the squat, tin object takes malicious pleasure in stabbing him to consciousness with its incessant_ brrrring_. He groans and slaps a hand in the direction of the trunk currently serving as a bedside table, but the clock dances away from Felix's outstretched fingers, its shrill ring sounding suspiciously like laughter. Groping about in the dark for his wand, Felix waves it at the clock, now doing an ungainly jig beside the bed, and it falls forward onto its flat face in disgruntled silence.

Stumbling to the wardrobe, Felix pulls out shirt, jumper, and trousers without looking, then stares about him in the darkness for his boots. The outline of one peeks from under the foot of his camp bed, and he trips over the other on his way toward it. Sprawled across the floor, all sense of urgency knocked from him, Felix fumbles for the treacherous shoes and tugs them on with heavy fingers. He reminds himself he's only 22, which is far too young to be this ornery about his turn at night-shift. He knows the one week a month of reversed sleep cycle, and the impish alarm clock that comes with it, aren't the real reason his nerves are on tenterhooks. But they certainly don't help.

Still spread-eagle on the cold, rough wood, Felix allows his eyes to fall closed as he sends up a silent prayer to whatever entity is responsible for managing his cosmic affairs: _Please, please let it come today,_ he thinks, over and over again, until sleep begins to trickle back through his veins.

As the breathing of its current master deepens and slows, the alarm clock rights itself and toddles across the floor towards his ear. It rubs its hands together in undisguised glee.

* * *

The Romanian Reserve is not at all what Felix had expected. It reminds him of what he always imagined work in an office would be like: shifts and staff meetings and performance reviews. In Peru, Felix's schedule was set by the sun or the activity of the dragons he tracked. Here, he flicks his wand over a time card in the main building and marches past the hall of tiny rooms to the cramped office where the equipment is stored, and which he has to share with the Senior Dragonologist for the Peruvian Vipertooth.

* * *

Luis Rashbold takes up almost the entire closet-sized room. Leaning back in the only chair with his feet propped on the small desk, both pieces of furniture creaking in distress, he dictates his report to a typewriter clicking away on its own. He's only a decade older than Felix, and full of the self-assurance that comes with being one of the youngest researchers to achieve a senior position.

Felix reaches across the desk and snatches the paper from the typewriter, glancing over the events of the day.

"Any change?" he asks Rashbold without looking up from the parchment.

"None. That she-dragon of yours is still hell-bent on getting to Alicanto before the mating season ends. But it shouldn't last much longer. The summer's half gone."

Sharp pangs constrict Felix's chest at the reminder, but he breathes through them.

"The rotation started over today, didn't it? Who do we have this month?"

Rashbold flicks his dark ponytail back over his shoulder. "Lambton. And do try and go easy on the lad, the healer quit this morning. "

"You're joking. He hasn't been here a fortnight!"

"I've known shorter," Rashbold shrugs unconcernedly.

"And the one before that only got here a few weeks before I did." Felix steps around the desk, carefully avoiding Rashbold's dirt-crusted shoes. "Is the job jinxed or something?" he asks as he lifts the fireproof gauntlets and chest-plate from their hooks on the wall, eyeing the sweat stains on the inside of the equipment with distaste.

"Doubt it," replies Rashbold, sliding another piece of paper into the typewriter. "Most people just aren't cut out for dragons." He catches Felix muttering a cleaning spell under his breath and shakes his head.

Felix pulls the chest-plate over his jumper, glancing at the papers scattered across the desk.

"Did the post come yet?" he asks with a practiced nonchalance that does not fool the older man one bit. Rashbold cracks a wicked grin.

"Sorry, nothing from your secret admirer. What's it been, a fortnight now?" As always, heat rises in Felix's face unbidden, and Rashbold's grin becomes a laugh. "Too bad you didn't pick the Fireball, mate. Your face would make excellent camouflage."

Felix stomps from the room, cheeks still bright red. Rashbold's infuriating laughter follows him down the hall.

Disappointment begins its natural evolution into bitter anger as Felix strides quickly out of the building's backdoor and down the gravel path. He wastes a few minutes wishing apparition was permitted on the Reserve. It's only a twenty minute walk to the Vipertooths' habitat, which is practically nothing; it takes the Horntail dragonologists an hour to get to their plot, housed at the very back of the Reserve. But work is the only thing keeping Felix sane just at present. Each minute of silent walking is a minute he cannot stop his brain sliding into anxious thoughts about what might be happening to Juniper so many kilometres away.

* * *

When Felix first arrived, Juniper's letters, while abysmally short, had at least been consistent. No longer half a world apart, Felix received her owls almost every other day, a privilege he had been denied for many years and did not take for granted. He could tell by her wobbly and often unintelligible penmanship, Juniper's hands had not yet improved enough to make writing an easy task. Nor had her attempts to charm her quill into writing for her been successful either, she explained in her first letter, since she couldn't hold her wand steady enough to cast anything. But after being discharged from St Mungo's and purchasing a quill that took dictation from Flourish and Blotts, her letters were once again full of news: How she had been excused from end-of-year exams; how she still had no memory of her attack or attackers; how Dumbledore had insisted she spend the summer at the Khanna tree farm, an out of the way country house with many magical protections surrounding it.

Felix got the distinct impression from her letters that Juniper was frustrated with the decisions being made for her. She had been expressly forbidden from leaving the Khanna property, except for regular visits to St Mungo's, and Dumbledore and the auror, Moody, checked in on her frequently. But Juniper offered no further information about her protection detail or her recovery. As always, she kept her letters to questions and comments about Felix's new life in Romania, though even those seemed more careless with each owl. Then the frequency of her letters dipped. By the end of July, they had stopped coming at all.

Worry now keeps Felix in a constant state of nerves. He's sure someone would have contacted him if something had happened to Juniper; another attack or a sudden relapse. He remembers Snape's warning about uncharacteristic behavior, and more than once has sat down at his desk with the intention of consulting the Slytherin Head of House. But he isn't sure if a mere lack of correspondence qualifies as unusual, particularly in light of her condition. It's entirely possible Juniper is simply too busy, with her recovery and her other friends, to keep up with their new fast-paced writing schedule. Still, the vacuum of silence he's left in without her letters makes him edgier with each passing day.

Work is the only relief Felix has from the continual parade of worries and what-ifs. And today's arrival of the new junior assistant, a position that rotates between different species on a monthly basis, ensures Felix has no extra brain space to think of anything except keeping the nervous young man alive and relatively unhurt.

Ten hours later, dripping with sweat, dirt, and blood, Felix trudges slowly back across the Reserve just as the sun peeks over the horizon. Pulling off his gauntlets and stretching his sore muscles, he waits for the ever-present torment to reassert itself. The desperation to hear from Juniper, even just a few quick lines to know she's alright and hasn't forgotten him, is a physical ache nothing will soothe. Two weeks is long enough to be objectively concerned, he decides. The time has come to send an inquiry.

Debating which of her many friends to write to, Felix is startled to hear his name being called from somewhere ahead of him. He focuses on the figure in the foreground: a tall, muscular man, though that describes most of the dragonologists here, but with the addition of a cowboy hat, which can only mean one person.

"Hey there, Rosier!"

"Grahame," Felix inclines his head wearily at the Reserve's resident American, who trots toward him with an irrepressible grin.

"I got - shit, you're a mess!" The dark man exclaims pleasantly, as he looks Felix up and down.

"May I help you?" Felix replies, trying to keep irritation from his voice. The American is a junior dragonologist as well, though several years older. Felix doesn't usually mind the man's company, but he isn't in the mood for conversation just now. Fortunately, Grahame appears to be in his usual hurry. He thrusts something at Felix as he passes.

"Rashbold asked me to hand that to you on my way. Said you'd want it asap!"

Felix looks down at the object Grahame is pressing into his hands. It's an envelope.

"I - yes. Thank you." He tries to sound aloof, but can't keep excitement from slipping out around his hasty words.

No worries," Grahame assures him, walking backward to keep sight of Felix. "Catch you later at the pub?" The American pronounces the final word with a fake accent and wry chuckle, but Felix doesn't notice. His entire attention is given over to the envelope in his hands.

The name on the back isn't written in Juniper's writing. Felix isn't positive, but he thinks he recognises the small, cramped script of Rowan Khanna. The morning feels suddenly chill. Fingers trembling, Felix unseals the envelope and pulls out a small slip of parchment. He reads the half-dozen lines once, and then again. Then he starts to run.

* * *

"Rashbold!"

"Rosier?"

The Senior Dragonologist looks up from behind the desk, taking in Felix's breathless state in mild curiousity. Felix props an arm against the doorjamb, clutching a stitch in his side.

"I need...a favor," he gasps.

Rashbold guffaws. "You _what_?"

"Don't be a prick," Felix growls as best he can while still panting.

"Oh, off to a champion start, you are," the larger man chuckles. He falls back against the chair, which squeaks in protest, and kicks his boots up onto the desk. He tries to fold his beefy arms casually behind his head, but the office is so small, he smashes his elbow against the wall.

"What could I possibly do for you, Rosier? Never been to Peru, have I? Never chased a dragon across mountains and through forests for weeks without sleep. Don't see how I could possibly help someone such as yourself who's so much more experienced, so-"

Felix can't even feel indignant as he interjects, "This isn't a work favor. It's - personal."

Rashbold's sarcastic smile slips a little. He notices the frantic look in Felix's eye and the parchment crumpled in his hand and asks, more seriously, "What's wrong, then?"

"Something's come up. Back in England, and - I need to take a bit of leave."

Rashbold lets out another raucous laugh, this one incredulous. "What? You can't! You just got here. You're not eligible for six months at least, and even then you know Guivré hardly ever approves-"

"I know!" Felix interrupts, "That's why I need you to cover for me."

"For how long?"

"I'm not sure." Felix runs a hand through his hair in distraction. "A few days, maybe."

Rashbold shakes his head. "Nothing doing, mate. I'm jiggered as it is, I can't pull double shifts that long. I've not got enough wide-eye potion left."

"Please!" Felix's abject pleading shocks both himself and the older man. "Please. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent."

Rashbold looks Felix up and down, then shakes his head again, his expression now apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Rosier. But Stella's on me about my hours as it is. If I try to pull something like this, I'll wind up in divorce."

The larger man shifts his gaze to the desk, lifting papers about at random, unwilling to look Felix in the eye.

Felix takes a heavy breath. "Fine." He tosses the gauntlets and vest in the general direction of the wall.

"Hold on." Rashbold stands in alarm. "You're not still going, are you?"

"I have to."

"But, Guivré will fire you if he finds you've gone without leave! I know you're still a bit new here, but you should know what he's like by now."

"I don't have a choice." And Felix is surprised to find his voice even and calm. It's a career-ending decision he's about to make, but somehow, he's entirely removed from any anxiety about it. It's the same feeling of clarity and focus he's used to experiencing in the wild, when circumstance demands immediate action without the luxury of second-guessing.

Rashbold crosses his arms. "Is this about your mysterious letter writer?"

Felix considers a lie, a family crisis would probably garner more sympathy, but his habitual blush betrays him.

"Yes."

Rashbold snorts. "You're seriously going to throw away your position for some girl? That won't even write?"

The heat in Felix's face becomes irritation.

"No. I mean, yes, I am, but she's not some girl. I mean, she is a girl, but..." He struggles to find words to describe everything between him and Juniper to this man who doesn't know either of them and whose business it really isn't anyway. "She's more than just a girl. She's - she's important."

"More important than your job?" Rashbold fixes the junior dragonologist with a shrewdly calculating stare that Felix hadn't considered the other man capable of. Felix holds his gaze steadily, and nods just once.

There's a short silence while Rashbold considers. Finally, the older man heaves himself back into the groaning chair in resignation.

"Alright, look. I can cover you for the week-end. I'll say you got a bad bite and are taking the cure." He points a large finger at Felix. "But if you're not back by Monday, you're on your own, alright?"

Felix's knees almost buckle with relief.

"Thank you, Rashbold," he manages, but the other man waves his words away with a massive hand.

"Don't thank me, just don't make me sorry."

* * *

The Khanna tree farm is as picturesque as a Christmas card in the mid-morning light, but Felix isn't in the mood to appreciate the scenery. Security measures have prevented apparition around the property for a league in every direction, so for the second time that day, Felix is forced to race on foot through the grounds. He pelts up the walk to the main building, and bangs on the door with his fist.

It's barely a minute, though it feels like an age to Felix, before the door opens and Rowan Khanna stares eagerly out, face falling slightly when she recognises him.

"Oh. Felix. I thought, maybe you were-"

"What's going on? Where's Juniper? What's happened?" he interjects in a breathless rush. Rowan's dark cheeks turn suddenly fuschia.

"Oh. Um...well, it's sort of complicated."

"What do you mean? Your letter said Juniper needed help."

Rowan stutters wordlessly, shifting her weight between her feet, face still unusually coloured, and Felix's frayed nerves snap.

"Khanna, I've left my job without leave to be here! Tell me what's going on. Now!"

The door opens farther and Felix is surprised to see Penny Haywood standing behind Rowan, expressive face full of worry.

"Are you here about Juniper?"

Felix rolls his eyes hugely. "Yes!"

The blonde girl tugs Rowan aside by the sleeve, allowing Felix to step over the threshold.

"That's good. We need all the help we can get."

A few silent minutes later, Penny is brewing tea while Rowan and Felix sit at the kitchen's wooden farm table. Rowan stares nervously down at her hands, picking at splinters in the wood. Felix takes several deep, steadying breaths, trying to keep his temper under control. If Juniper were in immediate danger, they would surely have taken him to her. But if she isn't, Khanna is going to receive an earful for putting him through all this.

"Where is Juniper?" Felix asks, with what he considers impressive calm.

"She's...not here," Rowan admits, and silent tears spill from her eyes before she can stop them. She wipes them with the back of her sleeve, knocking her glasses askew, and Felix digs his nails into his palm to stifle his panic. He calls up his old prefect skills and speaks as soothingly as he can.

"Khanna, just...calm down, and tell me what's-"

"She's alright," Penny says, turning from the heating kettle to face the table. She's mercifully tear-free, but looks concerned enough to contradict her statement. "She's not...not been attacked again or anything like that. It's - " she sighs deeply. "It's hard to explain.'

Felix closes his eyes in a quick plea for patience. "Please, try."

Penny leans back against the cooker.

"When was the last time you heard from Juniper?"

"Why?" asks Felix suspiciously.

"Because I need to know how much you don't know."

"It's been...two weeks," he admits. "but before that she wasn't saying much about what's been happening to her."

Penny hugs her arms about herself, taking a moment to gather her thoughts, while Felix drums his fingers against the tabletop in agitation.

"Okay. You know Dumbledore made her come stay here for the summer, right?"

Felix nods.

"Well, the thing is...at hospital, she seemed alright. Normal, you know? She was making plans for the summer and next term, like she always does. Even the healer said she was recovering better than expected. But...once she got here, she...changed. We thought she might just be ill or something. She was..." Penny glances toward the ceiling, presumably searching there for the right words. "Subdued, I guess. She wasn't eating, said nothing tasted of anything. And she couldn't sleep. Or wouldn't."

"What do you mean?" Felix interrupts.

"She started having these awful nightmares," says Rowan in a quiet voice. "She'd wake up screaming, didn't - didn't know where she was. It was...scary-" She sniffs, but manages to keep herself from tears. "So, she sort of stopped sleeping. At night anyway. She'd kip a bit during the day, but she'd stay up all night just - just sort of pacing and stuff. It was weird. And then she started - started..." Rowan's lip quivers violently and Penny steps in.

"She started acting, well, really kind of nasty. Snapping at Rowan, and just...really irritable all the time. I've been here a good bit, so I saw it too. It reminded me of Beatrice last summer, you know after being trapped all year. Just...not like herself at all."

Alarm bells go off in Felix's head.

"Did you tell anyone?" he asks. "Her healers or Dumbledore?"

Penny looks down, uncomfortably. "I thought it would get better. Juniper's a lot stronger than Beatrice. Stronger than anyone. You know what I mean, stuff doesn't really get to her like other people."

"I mentioned it once to Healer Early when she was here," Rowan interjects, "but she said there wasn't anything she could do. Something about how magic can't heal the mind and Juniper would just have to...get over it, somehow."

Felix frowns at this.

"I thought Juniper was visiting St Mungo's a few times a week? Why's the healer coming here?"

Rowan and Penny exchange significant glances.

"Did...did Juniper not mention?" Penny asks cautiously.

"Mention what?"

The kettle behind Penny whistles and she turns hurriedly to prepare cups, leaving Rowan to explain.

"When she took the floo to hospital, she'd have these awful sort of attacks. Like, doubled over in pain. For a really long time. And it made her hands worse." Rowan looks down at her own hands lying limp on the table, reciting her words blandly as if they were lines from a textbook. "The healer said the damage to her nerves from the Cruciatus Curse was pretty bad. And that can make magical transportation hard on the body."

Felix raises his eyebrows. "So...Juniper's not supposed to use the Floo network anymore?"

"Or apparate," Penny adds softly without turning around. "She didn't get to take the test with the rest of us."

Penny pours hot water into three cups, and sends them floating across to the table with her wand. Seating herself between Felix and Rowan, she makes a production of adding milk and sugar to her cup, stirring for longer than strictly necessary. Rowan purses her lips around the rim of her tea cup without waiting for it to cool, the steam fogging her glasses. For several minutes, the only sounds are the chink of porcelain and the gentle sipping of scalding liquid.

"Is this...permanent?" Felix manages eventually.

Rowan's cup clatters as she drops it back onto the saucer. She shakes her head violently from side to side.

"No! The healer said it should get better! That she might even be able to take the test next summer! It - It really wasn't...that big of a deal."

But Felix doubts Rowan's dubious tone convinces even herself. Juniper has always been accustomed to quickly mastering spells far beyond her year. And apparition is considered a rite of passage. He can only imagine just how "big a deal" being unable to apparate would be to Juniper.

"After that," Penny continues, still swirling her spoon through her tea. "Everything just got so much worse. I've - I've never seen Juniper so unhappy."

She trails away, staring miserably down into her cup. Felix waits as patiently as he can with his heart racing like a locomotive, but neither girl seems about to continue the story.

"So, does that mean Juniper's back at St Mungo's, then?"

Rowan busies herself cleaning the fog from her glasses, looking anywhere but at Felix.

"No," admits Penny. "See...we thought that maybe it would cheer her up to see her friends, since she's not supposed to go anywhere. So we invited them to come. We had everyone visit in shifts. You know, Barnaby and Andre one week, then Bill and Charlie. And then," Penny's chest heaves with her steadying breath. "Tonks and Tulip. They came up a couple of weeks ago, and they thought Juniper...needed to get out a bit."

Felix almost knocks over his still-full cup of tea. "But Dumbledore said she wasn't to leave the farm!"

"I know," Rowan moans, covering her face with her hands. "I tried to tell her. I knew she'd get into so much trouble if they found out, Dumbledore and Snape and that auror. But, you know what she's like."

"And Tonks and Tulip don't set any store by rules either," Penny adds in disapproval.

"But - but," Felix splutters, "where would they even go? If Juniper can't apparate-"

"Tonks has a muggle motor," explains Penny glumly. "Her dad taught her to use it. So, they all went into the city one night."

Felix struggles to keep his frustration at the two students in check. He's only four years their senior, but they suddenly seem ridiculously young to be watching out for Juniper by themselves.

"To be fair," offers Rowan timidly. "Juniper did seem a bit more herself when she got back. Or at least, she was talking again, laughing, you know?" She lowers her head to her teacup, slurping loudly.

"And I guess that encouraged Tulip and Tonks," says Penny, now fiddling with her tea spoon. "So when they left they...they sort of took Juniper with them."

"What? Where?" barks Felix in alarm.

"London," Penny and Rowan say simultaneously.

"London," Felix repeats. "So, it's taken you the better part of an hour to tell me that Juniper's run away to London?"

Both girls look uncomfortably at the table. Rowan's lip quivers violently again, but Felix's mounting frustration smothers the part of him that cares about such things.

"Surely, you wrote to me as an afterthought." Felix's voice trembles with poorly suppressed fury. "Presumably, two of the smartest witches of their year would know to contact Dumbledore immediately. Or Healer Early. Or that auror. Someone in the same country and able to ensure Juniper's safety in a timely fashion."

By the end, Felix's words are a venomous snarl, and Rowan begins to sob again. Penny looks from her to Felix, eyes pleading.

"Juniper didn't want anyone to know! She made Rowan promise not to tell anyone at the school. She - she wasn't very nice about it, either."

"And-and-and I didn't w-want her to get into trouble," wails Rowan.

Rising from her chair, Penny puts her arms around the other girl's shaking shoulders.

"We were afraid if we told Dumbledore or anyone else, Juniper might be expelled. And Rowan didn't want to break her promise," explains Penny in a soothing voice, stroking Rowan's hair. "Barnaby was the one who suggested we write to you, because...Juniper never said we couldn't tell _anyone,_ just not anyone at the school. And you and Juniper write and she looks up to you. We thought she might listen to you if you told her to come back."

Felix is unsure whether this is true or just flattery designed to quench his anger, but either way it has the desired effect. His whole body relaxes as worry and concern take a backseat to a newly re-kindled hope growing rapidly into excitement. Perhaps_ this_ is the opportunity he's been waiting for: a chance to help Juniper when she needs it most. This isn't the monster he'd always imagined saving her from, but it could do in a pinch.

For a few minutes, Felix indulges in a half-plan, half-fantasy of knocking on Juniper's door in London, reveling in the look of shock and awe that crosses her face upon seeing him before she throws herself into his arms, just like at the Quidditch match. Well, perhaps with a few more tears, only natural given what she's been through. But all the horror is sure to melt away as he holds her, murmuring comfort against her hair, until she turns her face to his, eyes full of appreciation and something else he's only ever imagined...

Felix pushes back from the table decisively.

"Where in London?"


	7. Chapter 7

_Summary: "For all her exceptional achievements, the people around her tend to forget she is merely 17. As does the Curse-breaker herself."_

* * *

Unable to wheedle an address from Penny, and forced to wait while she and Rowan complete the thousand and one rituals necessary to girls before they can appear in public, it's noon before Felix finally escapes the Khanna grounds and grudgingly apparates alongside the younger Hufflepuff. Directly into a clump of large, prickly bushes. Grumbling under his breath about the apparition skills of teenagers, Felix attempts to disentangle himself from the clinging branches. A sharp tug at his sleeve yanks him deeper into the foliage.

"Ouch! Haywood, what the-"

"Shhh!" Penny holds a finger to her lips and gives a vicious shush, then peeks cautiously between the leaves.

Fortunately, Felix now has several years experience maintaining awkward positions in unpleasant undergrowth. He crouches as still as possible, peering over Penny's shoulder to determine where they are. He can see a wrought iron grille just in front of their bush and behind it the occasional passing muggle motor car.

Rowan shifts noisily next to him, trying to achieve a more comfortable position and dislodging a rather large, spindly-legged spider from its web in the dense leaves. And Felix is grateful once more for the years he's spent in Peru where he's learned to suppress a particular phobia he'd prefer to keep private. Still, he's unable to prevent his body tensing in alarm as the spider scrambles up Rowan's arm just centimetres away from his face.

"Is this really necessary?" Felix hisses.

Without replying, Penny pokes her wand through the branches, muttering a spell under her breath, and Felix hears the noise of creaking metal.

"C'mon," she whispers, and pushes through the tight greenery. Rowan follows quickly, knocking the spider from its perch, and Felix has to fling himself forward to avoid it, scrambling gracelessly through the newly parted grille and into the road.

The three of them cross the street, packed with expensive-looking parked motors, and stride as casually as possible down a walk in front of a row of stately town-homes. Penny leads the way, pulling leaves and twigs from her hair, until they reach the very end of the street the plaque declares to be Chester Square. Glancing up and down the walk, Penny taps her wand against a jet-black gate. It swings open soundlessly, and Felix pushes to the fore. He sprints up the steps, and raps hard on a door the same gleaming shade of black as the gate. It takes several more successively violent knocks before it finally swings inward.

"Wotcher," says the pink-haired Tonks in mild surprise. She looks from Felix to the girls waiting in his shadow, then makes an exasperated movement with her shoulders like a sort of full-body eye roll. "This a kidnap, then?"

* * *

"Where is Juniper?" demands Felix.

In answer, Tonks nudges the door open more fully, then walks away without a word, leaving the three on the doorstep to invite themselves in. Without waiting for Penny or Rowan, Felix follows on Tonks' heels, past a wide staircase and down an elegantly decorated corridor. The Hufflepuff girl is clad in an interesting assortment of mismatched garments Felix can only assume serve as pyjamas, in spite of the hour, and in stark contrast with the understated hallway and the magnificent kitchen it leads into.

A glittering white candelabra illuminates counter-tops of pristine white marble facing an enormous fireplace bordered by a pure white mantle. There's hardly any other colour to be found in the entire room, except Tonks' clothes reflected over and over again in the mirrored cabinets.

"Who was it?" asks the girl seated in a high-backed white chair at the counter. Felix vaguely recognises Tulip Karasu, the renowned Ravenclaw trouble-maker.

"The Juniper Rescue Squad," replies Tonks in amusement, throwing herself into the chair beside Tulip with a force that causes it to wobble dangerously. She pulls a plate toward her and begins tucking in.

Tulip turns to inspect the intruders. Her eyes linger for a long moment on Penny, face inscrutable, before noticing Felix.

"Who's the bloke?"

Tonks answers through a mouthful of bacon. "That's Philip."

"Felix," corrects Felix.

"That," agrees Tonks with a nod. She covers her mouth with a hand as she speaks around her food. "You remember Juniper's old prefect? The one who sent us home from hospital?"

Tulip inspects Felix thoroughly, eyes lingering on him in a way that makes him distinctly self-conscious. Glancing at his reflection in the mirrored cabinet opposite, Felix realises he's covered in all the dirt, sweat, and dragon-grime of the ten hour shift he completed before receiving Khanna's letter. In his rush to check on Juniper, his unkempt state had completely escaped him.

"Chester Davies said you work with dragons now," Tulip mentions thoughtfully. "What are you doing here?"

Felix makes a half-hearted attempt to slick back his hair, but it does little to alter his overall appearance.

"I'm here to see Juniper," he answers, with as much dignity as he can muster, wondering if he can surreptitiously clean himself before she sees him. The reunion he's envisioned with Juniper does not include him smelling of dragon dung.

Tulip makes a tiny noise of disgust and tilts her head to gaze around Felix.

"Penny Haywood, do give it a rest. She's perfectly alright."

Penny emerges from the hallway behind Felix, little spots of colour appearing on her cheeks.

"Then she'll be perfectly alright back at Rowan's. Where she's supposed to be."

"Where's the fun in that?" winks Tulip.

Tonks leans her chair back to see around her friend. "I'm sure she'll be ready to go back soon. She just needs to blow off a bit of steam, you know?" She shoves another slice of bacon into her mouth. "You can't really blame her. All she's done the last six years is work. Solving mysteries, saving the school?"

"Battling bullies," chimes in Tulip, lifting a white tea cup to her lips.

"Yeah, and assassins!"

"Dueling dragons."

"And that thing with the werewolf, whats-his-n- whoops!" Tonks' chair legs overbalance and she topples backwards giving a small yip of surprise.

With an exasperated gasp, Penny rushes across the room to Tonks' aid. Felix notices an odd look flicker over Tulip's small, fine features as she watches Penny takes Tonks' hand and pull her up from the floor. She turns away again and stares unreadably into her teacup.

"Plus, she even cares about her marks now and being _prefect_ and nonsense like that," Tulip concludes, pronouncing the word prefect with utter disdain. "She's been too pent up for years. She deserves some fun."

"So, playing tricks on boys at parties, completely ignoring the International Statute of Secrecy; that's your idea of fun?" asks Penny skeptically as she rights Tonks' chair.

"Not just boys," says Tulip mildly. She locks eyes with a blushing Penny, and there's an undercurrent to their gaze Felix can't identify. It doesn't appear to have anything to do with Juniper, however, and it therefore means nothing to him. He clears his throat loudly and adopts his most imperious tone.

"Would someone kindly tell me where Juniper actually is?"

But the words have hardly left his mouth when he hears dull footfalls in the hallway.

"That's our sleeping beauty now," Tonks says cheerfully.

Felix whirls around, and fortune seems to have a vested interest in his dignity this afternoon as it ensures the door frame is just behind him when he suddenly stumbles backward, preventing him landing in a heap on the floor. There's nothing to be done about his slack-jawed stare, however, as Juniper shuffles past him toward the counter like a zombie, eyes half closed and crusted over in sleep.

If Felix has ever seen Juniper out of her school or Quidditch uniform, then it's only in her own personal dress code of jeans and jumper. He has certainly never seen her in skimpy sleep shorts and enormous overlarge t-shirt that hangs off her otherwise bare shoulder. He knows there are far more important things to be concerned about, such as the heavy bags under Juniper's eyes and the shaking in her fingers as she fumbles with the high backed chair beside Tonks, or the fact that she appears to have lost a stone. But for the moment, the whole of Felix's attention is occupied by the sight of Juniper's naked legs.

Juniper manages to collapse heavily into the chair, then slumps across the counter, head resting on her arms.

"Oi. You've got company," Tonks says enthusiastically, nudging her limp arm. Juniper gives a tired grunt, not looking up.

"See. She sleeps better after a night out," Tulip says in triumph, speaking to Penny once again as though Juniper can't hear them. But Penny is oblivious to anything but Juniper now, her face full of open concern.

The flawless white tea pot on the counter tips itself over smoothly into an unused cup. The little teacup then trots across to Juniper's tangled heap of arms without spilling a drop and stops, waiting as patiently as a well-trained dog. Juniper lifts her head the minimal amount required to sip at the rim of the cup without lifting a hand. For a full minute, the room is silent except the quiet sounds of slurping tea.

Penny, still standing awkwardly behind the line of chairs, casts a meaningful look at Felix, waiting for him to take the lead, but Felix is too preoccupied with the intriguing amount of skin revealed by Juniper's gaping shirt to remember exactly why they're here in the first place. From behind him, Rowan clears her throat.

"Juniper?"

Juniper grunts again without any clear inflection. She tilts her head very slightly in Rowan's direction, but still doesn't open her eyes.

"Um...Felix is here. He came to see you." Rowan tries to infuse excitement into her voice, but her hands clenching and unclenching in front of her give away her nerves.

Slowly, Juniper pushes off from the table and focuses bleary, bloodshot eyes on the doorway. Felix's heart skips a beat, but her gaze crosses him and then Rowan without any reaction, as if his presence were nothing more remarkable than a post owl.

"How are you feeling?" asks Penny anxiously.

Juniper coughs around another swallow of tea before mumbling, "I've massive headache."

"Oh, right!" exclaims Tonks, straightening up and fishing around in a hidden pocket. She produces a small, clear bottle and sets it with a thud next to Juniper's teacup. "Hangover cure's a summer essential. Never be without."

Juniper stares at the corked bottle, and Felix's blood cools enough for him to put thoughts together coherently. He moves to come to Juniper's aid, but Penny beats him to it.

"I've got it," she says eagerly, reaching around Juniper for the bottle.

Juniper jumps from her chair as quickly as if it were on fire. Penny flinches at the sudden movement and the rest of the room stills, all eyes now on Juniper in varying levels of concern.

"It's fine," she mumbles, tucking her hands into her armpits. "Just need a bit of air." She takes a few stumbling steps backward before darting from the room with unexpected speed, given her listless entrance.

Penny turns and looks helplessly at Tonks. Her lips move and it sounds like a question, but Felix can't process the words. Ignoring the low, serious murmurs passing between the girls in the room, Felix hastens past the chairs to follow Juniper out the swinging door.

For a moment, Felix wonders if the door was a port-key and if he hasn't been transported somewhere else, an entirely different continent perhaps. He's not overly familiar with Belgravia, but he feels certain its houses rarely contain sprawling, immaculately manicured Japanese tea gardens. Looking up, however, he can see the same tall buildings that surround the Karasu townhome over the tops of the delicately swaying trees. But there's no ambient city noise, just the trickle of the river, and what sounds like a distant waterfall.

Blinking in the sudden warm sunlight, Felix lifts a hand to shade his eyes, searching for Juniper. He catches sight of her a short distance away, standing motionless on a graceful wooden bridge overlooking the quiet stream. He steps cautiously toward her across stepping stones nestled between precisely arranged flowers.

If it weren't for Penny and Rowan's stories, and her strange behavior in the kitchen, Felix would have believed Juniper miraculously recovered. Her colour has returned to normal, and even her scars have largely faded. Preoccupied with drinking in all her newly revealed skin, Felix is a few steps behind Juniper before he notices something else.

"You cut your hair."

He doesn't mean to say the words aloud. They simply fall from his mouth as he stares stupidly at the back of Juniper's head. Her hair, always long and wavy even when pulled back, now just barely touches her shoulders. Felix isn't sure how he feels about the change.

"Fancied something different," Juniper explains without turning around. "What are you doing here?"

Her voice is eerie, like she's reading from a script she's only just seen. Playing the character of someone pleasant and cheerful, but unable to act the part convincingly. It sets the hairs on the back of Felix's neck on end. He shakes himself mentally and tries to remember all the comforting things he's planned to say while waiting in the Khanna kitchen just an hour ago.

"I...was worried about you. You stopped writing."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Got busy," Juniper says, stage directions reading _casually upbeat_. Felix's nerves twang with each forced syllable.

"Rowan wrote me." He takes a step closer. "She's worried about you as well. "

"She needn't be. I'm fine."

Felix's eye-roll is instinctual. "That's ridiculous. You-"

Juniper turns to face Felix. And it isn't her wide, false smile that scares him, it's her eyes. They look like the empty windows of an abandoned house; all light behind them gone. Juniper's eyes have always been fiery, bringing an otherwise average face to life in a compelling way, even at thirteen. Between her newly shorn hair and her strangely blank eyes, Felix might have mistaken her for a completely different person.

"You - you're-" he stutters, but no comment he can make on her appearance sounds like a compliment. "Rowan says you're not yourself lately."

It takes a moment for Felix to interpret her strange chuffing noise as a laugh.

"What, because I wouldn't sit around on her farm the whole summer doing nothing?"

A gentle breeze blows across the trees. It feels good to Felix, the direct sunlight beginning to bear down on him uncomfortably, but Juniper shivers and wraps her arms around herself.

"Look, I just needed a change of pace, alright? Tonks and Tulip spend their summer holidays in the city, going to parties, having fun. I thought I might try that for once. I would've invited Rowan but it's not really her scene."

"You're supposed to be resting. Recovering. Staying safe."

Juniper's snort of laughter contains a higher than usual proportion of bitterness. "I don't see why I'm any safer out in the middle of nowhere than in the city surrounded by people."

"Dumbledore thinks-"

"_Dumbledore _thought we'd be safe at school and all. Look how that turned out. No offence, but he's not exactly my go-to for safety tips anymore."

Her false cheer begins to dissolve under the heat of obvious anger. It isn't a usual emotion for her, but it is at least genuine, and nearer the reaction Felix has expected. Heartened, he reaches between them to gently grasp her shoulder; the one still covered by thin cloth.

"Juniper..."

Juniper flinches. Felix can feel muscle tensing under his hand. She doesn't pull away, but his grip on her arm feels suddenly awkward rather than comforting, and he's unsure whether or not to let go.

"Juniper," he tries again. "That...that group could still be after you. I know it's difficult to think about right now with everything you've been through but, if they find you-"

"Why would they still be after me? I'm hardly a threat anymore." Bitterness salivates from her words. She holds up her hands in front of her, knocking Felix's loose from her shoulder. "I can hardly hold my wand anymore, let alone cast anything. So, they've got what they wanted. My curse-breaking career is effectively over. And any other career I might have had."

The words themselves seem to throb with pain, causing an ache in Felix he can't fully understand.

"Rowan thinks I'm not myself, because myself is always working: saving everyone and solving everything. But you know, when I was doing that all anyone ever said was for me to stop. And now that I want to listen to them, they're freaking out! I just want to have a bit of fun like regular girls my age do over the summer. Is that too much ask?"

Felix would have to concede this point if it weren't for the fact that her demeanor isn't that of a person enjoying themselves, having a relaxing, stress-free summer. Still, as someone guilty of encouraging Juniper to focus on herself instead of curse-breaking, he has to scramble for a counter-argument.

"What about school?"

Juniper shrugs carelessly. "What's the point?"

"The point? Juniper, you have NEWTs this year. How do you expect to be a healer if-"

"_Ugh!_" For a moment, Juniper's eyes flash with angry fire. "You and Rowan and Penny! You all want to tiptoe around me and pretend to encourage me about my future, like I don't know that I _can't_ take the NEWTs and I _can't_ be a healer anymore. I'm not an idiot, Felix. It's obvious I won't recover well enough to make anything like the marks I need to get into St Mungo's."

Felix is frozen in the wake of her bitter, scalding fury. It's been a very long time since he's seen Juniper this angry at him, and much like the last time, he has the feeling it has little to do with himself. Still, he can feel defensive anger raise a tired head. He's risked everything to be here for her, to help her, and she ought to appreciate that. Felix swallows around the lump in his throat, trying to keep himself calm.

"Are you still seeing your healers regularly? Healer Early said-"

Juniper cuts him off with an exasperated growl.

"Look, Felix, thank you for your concern but I've got this covered. I'll be just fine. I always am."

Turning briskly, Juniper starts off down the bridge, and Felix panics. He doesn't have the first idea what to say to fix this, to fix her, but he knows he has to say something. There's always been a good, rational reason not to speak, but he's sick of playing it safe. He's come too far to let her walk away again.

"Juniper, stop!" Felix calls after her, and remarkably, she does. Felix closes the distance between them, until he's close enough to count the pale scars across her forehead. Heart pounding, he cups her face in his hands, not caring what he must look like or smell like or whether the right time to do this is in Tulip Karasu's parent's garden.

"Please, just...listen. I understand, this is-"

"How could you _possibly_ understand _any _of this?" Juniper interrupts, spitting the words into his face. Felix winces, back tracking quickly.

"Okay, you're right. I don't - I don't understand." He strokes her cheek with his thumb, trying to impress his feelings on her through their layers of skin. "But I want to. I want to help."

Felix can feel Juniper's trembling fingers encircle his, and his heart races. But she only tugs lightly, pulling his hands away from her face.

"Then leave me alone."

Her jaw is set, the shutters behind her eyes firmly closed. She drops his hands, and turns her back on him again. This time, Felix lets her go.

The kitchen is empty when Felix steps back through the swinging door. He marches through the glaringly white room, down the hall, and almost makes it to the front door when a voice hails him from behind. He pauses only briefly, entirely indisposed to any further conversation.

"Wait!" cries Tonks' voice. "How'd it go? Did she-" She catches sight of Felix's frozen mask and draws an accurate conclusion. "I guess she's not ready to go back then."

Felix regards her coldly. "No."

Tonks bites her lip, her hair fading to a dirty blonde; the first sign of low-spirits Felix has seen in the brash Hufflepuff.

"So...what do we do now?"

Felix's eyebrow raise is particularly contemptuous, and Tonks' shuffles her feet uncomfortably.

"Look, I'm not saying we were wrong. Juniper definitely needed to get out a bit, but...I don't know if it's really helping anymore."

"What do you mean?" asks Felix in spite of himself.

"I dunno, she's just..." Tonks shrugs expressively, "She gets sort of weird and jumpy when we're out now. I don't really know how to describe it."

Voices can be heard approaching the hall and Tonks looks around, suddenly nervous, as if their conversation were something illicit. She reaches into a pocket hidden somewhere in her strange ensemble and pulls out a scrap of paper. She thrusts it into Felix's unwilling hand.

"That's where we'll be tonight. Come by, you'll see what I mean. She might...be a bit more reasonable later. "

Felix shakes his head briskly. "I have quite enough on my plate at the moment without anymore teenage drama."

Tonks furrows her eyebrows indignantly, hair becoming a fiery red, but Felix overrides her hot retort. "I will write to Professor Snape and let him know that Juniper is once again refusing to follow the Headmaster's explicit instructions for her safety, and it will be up to them to decide her fate."

Without waiting for a reply, Felix yanks the front door open and sweeps from the townhouse, Tonks' proffered parchment still crumpled in his hand.

The first order of business is Diagon Alley, and his letter to Snape; just a few brief lines containing Juniper's current location and her refusal to return to safety. Then, the Leaky Cauldron for a room and a wash. A long, hot bath is enticing, but out of the question, so Felix opts for a quick sluice. No change of clothes gives him an excuse to return to Diagon Alley where he wastes an hour wandering in and out of shops, perusing racks of robes he has no use for in Romania, examining everything minutely, pestering shopkeepers with questions; anything to keep his thoughts and feelings at bay.

Exhaustion creeps over him, but Felix is afraid to sleep. There's a swell of misery waiting at the edges of his mind threatening to overwhelm him if he's still even for a moment. He walks the length of the street and back again twice, before his feet ache too badly to continue. Panic surfaces when he finally re-enters the Leaky Cauldron, unable to think of any further distraction. He's considering the soporific effects of a pint, when he notices the tall, black-robed figure speaking in low tones to Tom at the bar.

"Professor Snape?"

The Hogwarts Potions Master's black eyes meet Felix's and he jerks his head to indicate a door off the side of the pub's main room.

A half-hour later, sequestered in a private parlour, Felix finishes relating a more complete account of the day's events to the Slytherin Head of House, and stares down at his second cup of un-drunk tea that day. Only hours ago Felix would have been mortified to relate to anyone, let alone Snape, the lengths he's gone to ensuring Juniper's well-being, not to mention her subsequent rejection. But his pride has temporarily fled, replaced by weary, stomach churning grief, and he finds he doesn't care what Snape thinks of him just at present.

"You look rather the worse for wear yourself," Snape finally says after several minutes dusty silence, a jerk of his eyebrow serving to indicate Felix's work attire.

It's more than a little galling to have his personal appearance remarked upon by Hogwarts' infamous greasy-haired professor, and Felix has to bite his tongue to prevent a snide remark escaping. The irascibility coursing through him is desperate to unleash itself on someone, but he's not so starved for sense that he considers Snape a reasonable target. Felix contents himself with merely glaring as fiercely as he dares at the professor. It has no visible effect.

"I did come here straight off a ten hour shift. I've not slept in-"

"Then perhaps it would be best if you took some time to rest."

Snape takes a dry, crumbling biscuit from a plate on the table and chews, momentarily distracting Felix. He knows theoretically that Snape must eat, but the sight is still mildly unsettling.

"I can't leave for Romania until Monday," Felix says absently. "That's the next scheduled portkey and entry into the Reserve is strictly regulated. So I've got the weekend to sleep, I guess."

Felix turns to his own plate. His stomach grumbles moodily, and he knows it's been at least a day since he's eaten, but nothing looks particularly appetizing. He opts for a small sip of his now lukewarm tea, and grimaces. What he wouldn't give for a strong, Peruvian coffee...

"I meant, perhaps you ought to rest before speaking to Miss Windsong this evening."

Felix stares at the Professor over his cup, nonplussed.

"Why would I speak to her again? I've just told you the whole story, weren't you-" Snape's eyes flash a warning, stopping Felix's growing frustration in its tracks. "I mean - she' obviously doesn't want me. My help, I mean. She was quite clear on the subject. "

Snape's fingers drum against the arm of the chair. He wets his lips, hesitating in a manner Felix has never seen from the imperturbable Professor.

"Sometimes, in...trying circumstances...people may say things they do not mean. And later regret." Snape breathes in loudly through his nose as if this simple pronouncement cost him a great deal of energy. "I would encourage you to give Miss Windsong another chance."

Felix tries to see through Snape's iron mask to what could possibly make him so uncomfortable.

"Professor, do you think...could this just be a side effect of the curse she was under? That that's what's making her act like this now? Say...say things she doesn't really mean?"

Snape shakes his head. "It seems more plausible that this is the side effect of a life spent in dire circumstance all catching up with Miss Windsong at once. There's a reason she has always been encouraged, not to mention expressly ordered, to focus on more age appropriate concerns. For all her exceptional achievements," Snape pronounces these words with exquisite sarcasm, "The people around her tend to forget she is merely 17. As does Miss Windsong, herself."

Felix isn't quite sure he understands, but he feels foolish admitting it. At a loss for what to say, he takes another sip of cold tea. Cup clenched in his hands, he closes his eyes, wondering hopelessly whether this entire day might not all be a dream. Perhaps the ridiculous alarm clock hasn't rung at all, and he's still lying on the floor of his unpacked room, sleeping through his shift. It's a mark of how god-awful this day as been that missing a day of work seems preferable.

"Why is Miss Windsong so important to you?"

Felix's eyes snap open. He knows the heat rising in his face would give him away even to a less perceptive audience, but he can't stop his frantic search for a plausible cover. "I don't - that is... what do you m-"

"You know perfectly well what I mean," snaps Snape impatiently. "You do not attend the Quidditch matches of every student you knew at school. Or any, as a matter of fact."

Snape leaves the statement hanging in the air between them. And Felix, exhausted and miserable, finds the words tumbling out without thought.

"I love her. I have for years, I think. She's the first real friend I ever had." He drops his head into his hands. "I tried to tell her at that stupid match. And then afterwards, before all this...this whole mess happened. And now...now she doesn't even want me here."

Felix can only imagine the look of abject disgust on Snape's face, as his own is still buried in his fingers. He knows he should feel embarrassed at unburdening himself on the famously unsentimental professor, but, surprisingly, it's relief that overwhelms him. His confession has lifted a weight from his chest he was unaware of. For the first time in months, Felix finds himself breathing easily.

"If that is truly how you feel," Snape's voice sounds oddly tentative. "Then you should not give up on Miss Windsong so quickly."

Felix lifts his head, mouth slightly open. It's as if another person, standing just behind Snape, has spoken.

"You must tell her. In a way she cannot misunderstand. You will regret it if you do not. And I assure you there is nothing worse than to live forever with that regret."

Felix blinks, trying to reconcile this advice with the person offering it. Before he can begin to form a response, however, Snape stands briskly.

"I will inform the Auror Moody of Miss Windsong's whereabouts..." Snape wets his lips again. "Tomorrow. I imagine he will want to escort her back to the Khanna farm immediately, willingly or not. Which gives you the evening."The Potions Master billows from the room, leaving Felix to interpret his words as he will.

Absent-mindedly reaching for a biscuit, Felix decides it's imperative he reconcile with Juniper, if only because he can't think of a single other person who will ever believe his story of receiving romantic advice from Severus Snape.


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning: this chapter will contain M rated themes including alcohol abuse, sexual situations, and some iffy decisions that I'd like to make clear I do not condone. PLEASE NOTE that just because characters act a certain way does not mean I agree with their actions.  
While I have refrained from including any smut out of respect for people who don't care for that sort of thing, I did write it. So the explicit version of a certain scene from this chapter can be found in my new story, Advanced Dragonology, which is where I'll be sticking all the smutty excerpts I'm not including in the story proper to keep it from being NSFW. It is posted only on A03 here ( /works/23056273/chapters/55145926 ) or Wattpad here ( /846823809-advanced-dragonology-the-first-time ) in order to comply with FF's content agreements. **

_Summary:  
"That was..."  
"Unexpected?"  
"Very."  
"So, does that prove this is real?"  
"If I say no, will you do that again?"_

* * *

Proper socialisation is an essential part of a pureblood upbringing, so in his first seventeen years Felix has attended what he considers an excessive number of parties. Which is why it doesn't occur to him to be nervous until he steps up the squat house's ramshackle walk and realises he has never attended _this_ sort of party: a gathering thrown by young people for young people, specifically for the purpose of "having fun". Although, wincing at the loud thumps of what he can only assume is intended to be music, Felix wonders exactly whose idea of "fun" this could possibly be.

The front door is slightly ajar; lucky, since he doubts anyone could hear a bell over all the noise. There's no host to greet him or make the necessary introductions, so Felix is left to stand awkwardly just inside the run-down east end townhouse, hands stuffed in his pockets and feeling entirely out of his depth.

A quick glance around at the crowd of milling teenagers informs Felix he isn't dressed appropriately. Exceptionally casual muggle attire appears to be the evening's dress code from what he's able to make out. Darkness also seems to be the fashion at this sort of party. There's hardly a candle to be seen anywhere, most of the light coming from a single flickering floor lamp tucked into a corner. There's a thin cord trailing from its base into the wall, and Felix remembers this from Muggle Studies as a tell-tale sign of a muggle invention. He puts two and two together, and his eyes widen in panic.

This is a muggle house; a muggle party. What on earth would Juniper and her friends be doing here? Tonks must have given him this address as a joke.

Fumbling behind him for the doorknob, Felix is just considering what sort of retribution would be fitting for the idiotic Hufflepuff, when a sudden outburst of applause draws his gaze to the corner of the packed room. Half a dozen teenagers are clustered around one garishly-dressed person and Felix's eyes narrow as he recognises the spiky pink hair. Tonks, grinning toothily, throws a jacket over her head then sweeps it off with a flourish, revealing hair, still short and spiky, but now electric blue. Another round of cheering and clapping from the spectators, and Tonks takes a dramatic bow, tripping over her own boot-laces. Felix can only stare, indignation flagging in the face of his open shock.

"Never seen a metamorphmagus before?" says a voice near his ear.

Tulip Karasu appears just beside Felix's elbow, leaning in uncomfortably close to be heard over the din. She's wearing muggle clothes as well, and considerably few, at that, but it's hardly the most concerning thing to Felix at the moment.

"I've never seen a metamorphmagus reveal herself in front of a whole pack of muggles, on purpose and in direct violation of the International Statute of Secrecy, no," he retorts waspishly. His voice is almost lost in the room's overbearing babble, but Tulip seems to understand the gist at any rate. She shakes her head with a wry smile.

"They're her cousins, or something. Her father's muggle-born," she says loudly into his ear again. "Besides, muggles don't believe in magic. Tonks could turn herself into a bear right there in front of them, and they'd still say it was a trick. It's fantastic."

Tulip glances around Felix.

"The rest of the entourage with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know," Tulip shrugs a shoulder. "Rowan Khanna...Penny Haywood."

It's painfully obvious, even in the dim light, that Tulip's nonchalant attitude is all a show, but whatever's happening between the tiny Ravenclaw girl and her Hufflepuff counterpart does not interest Felix in the slightest.

"No. I came alone. To see Juniper." Felix's brow furrows suddenly. "Please tell me she's not outside showing off her Comet 260 or something?"

Tulip's enigmatic smile sours slightly.

"Don't worry. Everyone's favorite curse-breaker is currently getting soused in the kitchen. Drinking contest, I think." Misinterpreting Felix's expression, she adds, "Don't worry. She always wins. Always wins everything, doesn't she?" And she saunters off in Tonks' direction without further comment.

* * *

It takes Felix several minutes to navigate the dark, over-crowded hallway and locate the dingy kitchen. He's relieved to find it more brightly lit then the rest of the house, and slightly quieter. A linoleum table takes up most of the room, covered in plastic cups full of unidentifiable liquids. A long bench set into the wall lines one side of the table, and at its end sits a girl with curled hair sipping through a plastic straw directly from a sloshing pitcher. A group of mostly male on-lookers eggs her on, giving a raucous cheer when she finishes. The girl pushes the empty pitcher away from her with a cry of triumph, and it isn't until she looks up that Felix is positive it's Juniper.

"Felix?"

He can't quite hear her over the continued cheering, but he recognises his name on her lips, painted an unlikely shade of electric pink. She's smiling, which might have been a good sign if it didn't seem so vacant, and she gestures at him wildly with a wrist full of clinking bracelets. Juniper's fans all turn to see who's captured her attention, and Felix pushes through them primly, seating himself next to Juniper, rather closer than strictly necessary. He shoots his patented prefect's glare at the gaggle of boys, most of whom take the hint and sidle away.

If Juniper notices her audience disperse, she doesn't show it. She hooks her wrist around a plastic cup and pulls it toward her. She plucks the straw from the pitcher with two fingers, and Felix is pleased to see her grip last long enough to drop the straw into the cup, before leaning down and chugging the drink nearly in one gulp.

When she finally comes up for air, Felix leans in close to her ear.

"Can we talk?"

Juniper turns so their faces are suddenly very close.

"I doubt it. It's quite loud in here." She smiles lop-sidedly, but her eyes are still dark and dead-looking underneath a thick layer of blue powder.

"Then, let's go somewhere else," urges Felix. Juniper shakes her head.

"Half the reason I come to these things is specifically because it's too loud to talk," and Felix has no counter-argument for that.

Juniper drags another cup across the table and leaves it in front of Felix, then pulls a third toward herself and inserts her straw once more. At a loss for anything else to do, Felix lifts the drink to his lips, but he can only take a small sip before returning it to the table in disgust. He swallows hard, trying to rid himself of the bitter taste.

Next to him, Juniper smirks. It's a nasty expression when combined with her empty-looking eyes. She dunks her straw into Felix's abandoned cup and leans over it. The drink hadn't tasted exceptionally strong to Felix, just rancid, but three plus a pitcher in less than five minutes seems dangerous. He's about to voice his concern when Juniper looks up.

"But would you like to dance?"

"_What_?"

Juniper nods at the dark room just beyond. It's full of people clumped together in groups and pairs, and Felix stares helplessly at the mass of bodies, their movements hardly recognisable as dancing. Even if he had the inclination to join them, he wouldn't have the first idea how to mimic them.

"I - I don't...really...I mean - that's not - "

"Suit yourself," Juniper interrupts with a shrug. She has to climb across him to exit the bench, using his shoulder for support, and once again Felix's entire attention is devoted to the sight of Juniper's legs, now covered only in black stockings. Not the kind worn with school uniforms, but the sort full of large, criss-crossing holes, like netting.

Without sparing a backward glance at Felix, Juniper joins a small cluster of girls just inside the other room, all moving in time with the thudding beat, arms rising and falling, close but not quite touching. Perhaps it's the current lack of blood in his brain, but Felix can suddenly see the appeal of the movements, clearly designed to call attention to certain parts of the body, and for the remainder of the song he's caught up in enjoying the sight. Juniper is smiling, and from here he can't see the haunted look in her eyes, and he can pretend it's the Juniper he knows, enjoying herself with friends like there's nothing wrong at all. Until the music changes seamlessly into a song with a more intense rhythm, and several young men take this as an invitation to join Juniper's group. Far from looking harassed, the girls seem to enjoy the company.

One particular boy positions himself just behind Juniper; far, far too close for Felix's liking. He runs distracted fingers through his hair, that primal call to action he associates with danger to Juniper tugging at him furiously, demanding he intervene. He contemplates whether a banishing charm might go unnoticed in the dark, or a stunning spell. He's just considering whether a Bat Bogey hex is too much, when the boy's hands are suddenly on Juniper's waist, guiding her back against him, and a mad rage erupts in Felix like he's never known. He stands, unsure what he's going to do but determined to do something, and his sudden, sharp movement knocks drinks from the table. In the split second he looks away to inspect the spill, there's a small bang, then a loud scream, and when Felix's head whips back round, the young man is on the floor.

The song plays on like nothing has happened, but the dancers around them have all stopped and stepped back, their collective whispers carrying over the music like rushing water. Juniper's chest is heaving, her head flicking warily from side to side. She reminds Felix of a cornered Vipertooth, evaluating its enemies, searching frantically for an escape route, and something about the comparison and the adrenaline still coursing through him activates his instincts. He crosses the room determinedly, grips Juniper by the elbow and pulls her out of the sea of muttering on-lookers, back through the kitchen, and out a door he hopes is an exit.

The warm night air hits him in the face as they step into the narrow alley between this house and the next, mercifully empty except for rubbish bins. Juniper rips her arm from Felix and totters a few steps away. She leans against the brick of the building, hands over her face, still breathing heavily.

"What happened?" asks Felix, voice calm in the way it always manages to be when he's focused.

"I didn't mean to. It - it just...happens sometimes."

"What did you do to him?"

"Just the Knock-Back jinx. I think."

Felix raises a curious eyebrow. "You can use your wand, now?"

Juniper shakes her head behind her hands. "No. Like I said, it just happens. I can't control it. It's like - being a little kid again, when you're angry and the magic just - just comes out." There's panic or hysteria at the back of her voice, and Felix reaches for his most soothing tones.

'It's alright. I doubt anyone saw you. And you're over seventeen, you don't have the trace on you anymore. You're not in trouble."

Dropping her hands, Juniper stares at Felix and the ice in her eyes make him shiver.

"What would they do, anyway? Snap my wand?" She tries to laugh, but it becomes a dry heave. Nerves begin to threaten Felix's composure.

"Juniper," he takes a step toward her, cautious as if she were an injured dragon. "Why don't you let me take you -" But Felix stops, unsure how to finish. Now he thinks about it, he isn't sure where to take her. The same idea occurs to Juniper.

"Where? To Tulip's house? She'd love that. Her parent's don't even know she's gone. And I doubt anyone's been in my family's house in years. Unless maybe Jacob's camped out there." She forces another bitter laugh, clutching her stomach tightly.

"What about Khanna's place, then?" Felix suggests, when inspiration strikes him. "Or Hogwarts! Dumbledore won't mind, I'm sure of it. He's worried about you. Everyone is."

Somehow, this is the wrong thing to say. Juniper snorts, and tries to stand up straighter against the brick wall, an echo of anger flaring up behind her dark eyes.

"No. I'm not going back there. You know they're only worried about me because I'm the _Cursebreaker._" She pronounces the word like some vile epithet. "You think if they didn't need me for information or weren't worried I might turn out like my brother, they'd care about me at all? Dumbledore or Snape or the aurors? They don't worry about anyone else's safety! They don't keep tabs on Beatrice or any of the other students who've been hurt at the school. It's because they need me to take care of everything for them. That's the only thing I'm good for." Juniper wipes at her eyes viciously with the heel of her hand, smearing blue and black lines across her face. "And I can't even do that now, so, really, I don't matter at all, do I?

Felix shakes his head slowly, taken aback by this heated rant.

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is!" insists Juniper doggedly, wrapping her arms about herself as if the night were cold.

"That's not why I'm here," Felix argues, but Juniper only rolls her eyes.

"You're here because they sent you. If you're really here at all. This whole thing could just be some awful dream." Her words dissolve into a groan, and she slides down the bricks to the ground, arms clenched around her knees. Felix watches her in mounting frustration.

"Juniper, do you realise I left my job to be here? Without permission, without telling anyone. Probably, I'll end up sacked when they notice I'm gone, but I came anyway. Because I care more about you. And you know that I never cared about cursed vaults. I always wished you weren't so wrapped up in curse-breaking. I'm not here to help anyone use you for all that rubbish. I'm here to help you."

Juniper looks up at him, eyes still empty but her mouth trembling slightly. "I don't need help," she says stubbornly. Then she turns and heaves against the side of the building.

It's lucky, thinks Felix vaguely as he kneels next to her, that none of this happened three years ago, before he spent time in the wild. He can only imagine how he would have reacted to a girl vomiting in front of him when he was still at school. But Peruvian Vipertooth venom leaves one exceptionally ill, even after taking the cure, and Felix has spent more than his share of days sick as a pig, waiting for the toxin to leave his body. He's helped others on his expedition team, as well, so he lets practice take over, gathering Juniper's hair back for her and producing a handkerchief from the tip of his wand. Felix waits for the contractions in her stomach to subside, wishing uselessly that one of the bins next to them would suddenly turn into a dragon, maw open and flames spitting. Because that's more the sort of monster he'd prefer to rescue her from.

After a few minutes, Juniper climbs shakily to her feet. Felix takes her arm to help her, but she pulls away, letting the brick wall support her weight.

"I'm fine," she mumbles, wiping her hand across her mouth with a grimace. And Felix's temper, so patiently tamed throughout this entire bloody evening, flares unexpectedly.

"Are you physically incapable of saying anything else?" His sudden shout makes Juniper wince. "Juniper: You're. Not. Fine. And the only person who expects you to be is you. And pretending like you are isn't helping you or anybody else. Now, I can't make you let me help you - and you can carry on acting like a bloody idiot if that's really what you want - but you'll have to put up with me following you about everywhere because I'm not going to let this go."

Felix stops, panting slightly. He pushes back a bit of hair that's fallen into his eye. His anger now vented, he feels like a prat for shouting. He knows being angry at Juniper, so obviously irrational, won't solve anything, and he waits for her bitter retort or angry retreat. But Juniper only shakes her head, eyes still closed, and it isn't until tears leak from under her eyelids that Felix recognises her shaking as silent sobs.

"Juniper," he steps forward and reaches carefully for her, and for once, Juniper doesn't pull away. She leans into him, arms trapped against his chest, and buries her face in his shoulder. Felix can feel her crying quietly. "Juniper, I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No," she interjects, voice muffled against his robes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Felix, I - I'm a mess, I know it. I'm such a mess right now. Everything's just - wrong, and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know why I'm like this right now. I don't know - how I feel or - or anything, and I'm - I'm so sorry."

Felix lets her cry, stroking a cautious hand across her hair. Tentative relief trickles through his veins, giddy and intoxicating, but a part of him can't help feeling ultimately disappointed. Supporting a crying, hopeless Juniper is far less romantic in real life than in his fantasy.

"Come on," he says quietly once her shaking has mostly subsided. "Let's get you out of here."

Juniper lifts her head from his shoulder and dabs at her eyes. "I can't apparate," she admits. Her face is too red and blotchy to tell if the confession embarrasses her.

"We can take the Knight bus. I've never actually ridden it before, but I think-"

"No!" Juniper shakes her head frantically, her curls coming unpinned. "No, please - I don't want anyone to see me like this. It'll be in the papers, for sure. That Skeeter woman's been sniffing around me all summer."

Her voice quavers again, and Felix wraps one arm tightly about her shoulder, pulling her against him to support her weight.

"Alright, alright," he reassures her, coaxing her feet forward. "We'll think of something else." They shuffle awkwardly out of the alley. "Aren't there muggle motors that take people places? Can't remember what they're called. Not buses."

"You mean a taxicab?"

"That's it." They turn onto a road lined with houses, but no motors. Felix guides her down the walk in the direction of city lights.

"How do you know about taxicabs?" Juniper asks between sniffles.

"Muggle studies," Felix admits. "You need at least an OWL in the class to work at the Ministry."

They have to walk another block before they reach a street full of lit shops and the occasional passing motor. Felix flings out an arm and one screeches to a halt. He fumbles with the handle on the door, struggling with the mechanism until the exasperated driver climbs out to assist him, mumbling about drunks. The man eyes Juniper suspiciously as she clambers into the back of the motor, giggling through scattered hiccoughs.

"Where are we going?" she mumbles as she leans back against the plastic covered seats. Felix climbs in next to her, eyeing the inside of the car dubiously.

"The Leaky Cauldon," he says as the driver returns to the front. The man glares at Felix from his little mounted mirror.

"You off your face?"

* * *

"Do you know, I've never actually been in the Leaky Cauldron before. Except in passing," remarks Juniper. She inspects the shabby room from her seat near the fireplace, lit in spite of the warm summer night. "It's nice."

"It's alright," shrugs Felix. He wishes he had somewhere more impressive to take her, but his room at the Leaky Cauldron is the only place he could think of where Juniper would both be safe and where they might have an uninterrupted conversation. After washing the vomit, tears, and smeared makeup from her face and having a quiet sit by the fire, Juniper seems in strangely serene spirits, and Felix sits across her nervously, wondering how to broach his desired topic.

"You stay here often?" inquires Juniper politely.

"When I'm in England."

She cocks her head curiously. "Why don't you stay at home?"

"I'm not currently welcome there. Not until I'm ready to 'give up this ridiculous dragon nonsense and return to my family obligations,'" Felix quotes wryly, but Juniper doesn't smile.

"I'm sorry."

Felix shrugs her sympathy away. Silence ticks between them again, and Juniper settles deeper into the winged armchair, closing her eyes. With her elaborate makeup gone, Felix thinks she looks pale again. Her hair has come out of it's pins, and something about the way the new length frames her face makes it seem thinner.

"Why did you cut your hair?" he asks.

Juniper sighs. She opens her eyes, but keeps her gaze firmly on the fire. Her fingers fiddle absently with her fallen curls.

"Sometimes, I sort of...space out. I feel like I'm back there - like it's happening to me again."

"I thought you said you couldn't remember what happened," Felix interjects sharply.

"I can't," Juniper confirms. "Not fully. Not like a story I could tell. It's just...bits and pieces. And they sort of...pop into my head sometimes when I'm not expecting. Or I have nightmares - I don't even know if they're about what really happened or if they're just my imagination - but I wake up and I...I don't know if I'm awake." She shudders. "That's the worst. Not knowing what's real. Not trusting myself. I thought - I don't know - I thought...if something were different about me - like my hair - then... maybe, it would be easier to tell the difference between the past and the present. Does that makes sense?"

"Sort of," Felix agrees vaguely, although he's not at all sure it does. "Does it work?"

"No." Juniper shakes her head. "Not when I need it to, anyway. The whole world just feels so...unreal sometimes. Like, for all I know I'm dreaming, and maybe I just cut my hair in my dream." She sighs heavily, and rubs the heels of her hands against her eyes as if they ache. "Maybe all of this is just a dream."

Worry crawls up Felix's spine. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe I am cursed." Juniper pushes off from her chair and sidles to the window, arms clasped about herself. "Maybe I'm still in hospital and none of this is really happening."

"Juniper," Felix says firmly, trying to call her attention back to him. "You know this is real."

She shakes her head, back still turned.

"I don't know. I don't know what's happening with me. I just feel so..." She leans her forehead against the glass. "I don't know what I feel."

Felix stands, one hand rubbing nervously at the scar across his neck, entirely unsure how to approach this strange admission.

"I think...that's probably normal. Considering," he offers carefully.

"Not for me," argues Juniper, turning from the window and raking her fingers through her hair. "I'm scared all the time. I never used to be scared of anything, and now...I jump at shadows or sudden movement or people touching me unexpectedly." She pushes off from the sill and paces the room in quick steps. "It's like it is in a duel. You know that feeling? When you're dueling someone and your whole body is just ready...ready for action, ready to dodge a spell or attack. All tense, and defensive. But it's like that all the time. I can't shut it off, and it's...exhausting."

On the last word, Juniper leans back against a bed post. "Even when I sleep I have these awful nightmares and I'm more tired when I wake up then I was before. I know it's making me mad. I watch myself acting mad and stupid, and saying these horrid things to people. To my friends. Maybe I have gone mad." She lets her head loll back against the wooden post. Felix approaches her tentatively.

"I think, if you can be worried that you're mad, then you're probably not." He says reassuringly.

"I don't know. None of this seems very likely, does it?"

"None of what?"

"All this? You?" Juniper lifts her head to look at him, gesturing vaguely about the room. "Why would you be here when you're supposed to be Romania. That's not rational, is it? Probably you're just a visual representation of my conscience or better sense or something." She chuffs a mirthless laugh.

"I'm here because I was worried about you," Felix reminds her.

"But isn't that exactly what you'd say if I made you up in my head?" she retorts.

There's something about this abstract train of thought that irritates Felix. It's irrational, which means it isn't an argument he can win with facts. But she's finally talking, perhaps more than she's talked to anyone since the attack, and he's afraid to say anything that might shut her off again.

"So, how can I prove that this is real?" he asks, hiding his frustration. Juniper shrugs listlessly.

"I don't know. Say something...unexpected. Something I couldn't make up."

Felix wants to laugh, wildly. He's full to bursting with things he's never said to her that he's dying to say: that he loves her, that he's never really loved anyone but her, that he'll do anything to make her better again. He screams the words in his head, as if she might hear them if he just thinks loud enough, but he can't force his mouth to speak.

Instead, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her soundly.

**_ (A/N If you want the explicit version of this next scene, go here, but be sure to return for the end.)_**

It's in no way the perfect first kiss Felix has fantasized about: full of sparks and unspoken declarations of love. Juniper isn't expecting it, so her mouth isn't ready and their teeth clash. A few seconds of decidedly unromantic fumbling, and he pulls away to inspect her reaction.

Juniper's eyes are wide in surprise, but for the first time that day, there's a light behind them Felix recognises. She doesn't move, only stares. She wets her lips, shoulders heaving with the force of her shaky breath.

"That was..."

"Unexpected?" Felix provides when she cannot find the word.

Juniper nods, smiling faintly. "Very." And it's her smile. Her real smile. And her eyes. And the relief is a rush almost as heady as his proximity to her body. Felix's smile in return is small but genuine as he asks softly

"So...does that prove this is real?"

Juniper meets his eyes the way she always has, quietly confident and determined to get what she wants.

"If I say no, will you do that again?"

This time, it's exactly how he pictured. Juniper's lips are so soft against his, they're almost insubstantial. She pauses after each long, light kiss, lips lingering on his mouth for a moment as if to savor it.

War rages in Felix as he tries to keep himself calm. Somewhere underneath the excitement and relief and joy of finally getting what he's wanted for so long, there's nagging doubts over whether this is really a good idea. But the need for more is stronger. He slides his hands into her hair, pulling her face closer to his to deepen their kiss. There's no resistance. Juniper softens against him, opening her mouth to let him explore. She presses her trembling hands against his shoulders, steadying herself against the onslaught. It's minutes before they break apart for air, still clinging to each other.

Felix wonders if its possible to get drunk from the alcohol in someone else's mouth. It's what she tastes like, and it leaves him heady and unbalanced. It's not at all what he imagined, but what with her has ever been?

Juniper's eyes are glassy as she stares transfixed at his lips, and Felix has to fight a primal urge to press her hips as tightly against his as he can. Some voice at the back of his head is warning him to stop, now, before things go too far. He opens his mouth to find a way to tell her, when Juniper bites the corner of her lip and the words evaporate. Felix grips her waist until she's flush against him, the way he's wanted to do since he saw her at that Quidditch match months ago. She's on her toes to make her body line up exactly with his, and the pressure against his trousers drives him mad.

It's really only minutes, but Felix isn't aware of time as he explores her body. It's another thing he's never managed to picture correctly, but it's better than he dreamed. So focused on feeling everything, Felix doesn't notice when Juniper move her hands until they're against skin. _His_ skin. His shirt is untucked from his trousers, and her fingers slide under the waistband and there's another rush of blood and his mouth is suddenly dry.

_We can't_, thinks Felix automatically as Juniper's fingers trail across his lower belly, tracing the light outline of muscle. But is there a reason? Or is it only because it isn't usually done this way? _There's dates, time spent_, he thinks frantically, _you have to earn the right_. But Juniper never does anything the regular way. And haven't the best parts of his life always started with her dragging him along somewhere unexpected? Then her hands stroke across his hip bones, and Felix's body makes the decision for him.

His hands creep up her legs, where there's more muscle than he expected, and Felix wants to take time to explore them more thoroughly but he isn't in charge of his movements anymore. His fingers are just _there_ when Juniper jerks, and this time her gasp isn't quite the same. There's something less pleasant in it, and Felix's skin turns cold as he pulls his hand back, unable to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't-"

She stifles his apology with her lips, kissing him with new furvour as she fumbles for his wrist, pulling his hand back into place.

"It's good," she murmurs against his mouth. "So good, I've just...I've never actually done..._this_ before."

How hasn't he thought of that? Felix cringes with shame. Perhaps because Juniper was dating Barnaby at the same time he was with Aurelie and so he'd just assumed all relationships follow the same natural progression. True, she and Barnaby were still in school, but that hardly means anything. School can't have changed that much since he left, and students were always finding ways to do this in spite of their prefects' best efforts. It never even occurred to Felix to hope that Barnaby hadn't had her first, he simply chose to overlook that fact in all his fantasies of her. The sudden knowledge that he might be the first, perhaps the only person, to touch Juniper like this is both elating and terrifying.

Felix is suddenly acutely aware of the rickety iron bed, and the peeling paint, and the raucous sounds from the pub below. This isn't romantic. There's nothing about this room or this situation that would make for a beautiful memory. _He_ might be able to see past that, but this is more than _their_ first time, it's _her_ first time. Felix is sure he doesn't understand what that means for a girl, but he thinks, in general, it's supposed to be better than this.

"Juniper,' he mumbles against her mouth. "This-this isn't right."

"What?"

Juniper freezes against him. He can feel her frantic heart beat against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her waist, safely, speaking into her hair.

"I mean...not like this. You're...this...it's supposed to be...perfect," Felix finishes, thankful she can't see how red his face his. He can feel her giggle, causing her body to ripple against him deliciously.

"Perfect? My life is hardly a novel, Felix."

"Special, then," he insists, his lips now pressed against her ear, searching for a safe place to kiss her that won't add any further fuel to the fire already burning through him. But Juniper turns, on her toes again, so she can press her forehead against his and speak directly at his face in a breathless voice

"It is special. I'm with you." Her trembling fingers slide across his cheeks, burying themselves in his hair. "It should be you. I want it to be you."

If Felix kept a diary, he would have accused her of reading it. How else could she know exactly what he's always wanted to hear? He can't suppress a shaky gasp. His lips brush hers as he asks:

"Are you sure?"

Juniper meet his gaze steadily, eyes dark, but a different sort of dark than this morning. There's something on fire behind them as she nods.

"Positive."

And for all the ways this isn't how he planned, it's still perfect. Because it's her. It's them. The two of them together, finally joined the way they're supposed to be, as close as two people can get.

A short time later, Juniper shifts underneath Felix as their heart rates return to normal, and he rolls to the side to keep from crushing her. He snakes an arm under her to pull her back against him, not wanting to be away from her body for a second. Juniper curls up half beside, half on top of him, and rests her head on his shoulder, eyes closed and smile tired, and Felix realises she must be nearly as exhausted as he is.

"Juniper," he says softly, trying to infuse her name with everything he's feeling. Any other words would surely sound trite in the wake of what they've just done. Her smile widens, though her eyes remain shut.

"Felix," Juniper answers in a voice as full of meaning as his, and Felix sighs, familiar warmth spreading through his chest the way it always does when she says his name. Only now he has brand new memories of the way she can say his name, and he clutches her more tightly against him, satisfied in finally having one dream play out just right.

* * *

Felix wakes up in little waves. There's soft warmth surrounding him he doesn't understand, until the memory of Juniper from last night returns and he smiles. He reaches out to stroke her hair where it lays pooled on his chest and his hands clench against fabric. He opens his eyes. It's a sheet draped across him. And the bed beside him is empty.

Felix shoots up, instantly alert. A quick scan of the room reveals he's the only one in it. Throwing back the sheet, Felix leaps from the bed and searches the floor for his clothes. He has a vague memory of shedding them somewhere around the bed's foot, but they're nowhere to be found. He swivels around, looking for any kind of clue, and this time notices his robes laid across the chair by the fireplace. Definitely not where he let them drop in a careless heap the night before.

An uncomfortable writhing wakes in Felix's stomach as he tugs on his trousers. This is not how he was hoping this day would begin. He fumbles under his robes for his shirt only to find it isn't there. He barely has time to contemplate this new mystery when the door opens and Juniper enters, a tray with two steaming cups and a plate of scones hovering beside her. She starts upon seeing him, cheeks turning rosy, and Felix realises she's wearing his shirt on top of her skirt and stockings from the night before. The look is less openly suggestive than her sheer blouse, but he finds the sight of her in his clothes impossibly arousing.

Juniper's thoughts seem to be somewhere near his own. She grins sheepishly, still blushing, and turns to push the door closed. The tray makes its own way to the little table near Felix and sets itself down.

"Morning," says Juniper, and her voice is almost bright. So much like what Felix remembers of her, and he wants to laugh and cry at the same time. He settles for smiling at her as she lifts a mug from the tray. It's a beer mug, he notices, the kind with a large handle on the side and she threads her entire hand through it, balancing the other side with her wrist. His smile falters a little.

Juniper plops heavily onto the edge of the bed, curling her legs up underneath her and breathing in steam from the mug. Felix glances wistfully into the remaining cup, a regular tea cup, and entirely bereft of the coffee he craves. Forgoing drink, he sits down carefully beside Juniper, self-consciousness beginning to twist his stomach into knots. There's no reason he shouldn't be allowed to lean across and kiss her, surely? But something about her sipping tea, eyes wandering everywhere but at him reminds him too much of mornings with Aurelie, and the memories play havoc with his confidence.

"How are you feeling?" he asks uncertainly, watching Juniper sip her scalding tea without a wince.

"Honestly?" She ponders this a moment, before replying candidly. "Awful. Absolutely miserable. The worst I've ever felt in my life, I think." She takes another sip of her drink before adding, "But, if I can admit that, then I guess I'm a good sight better than yesterday, right?"

Juniper looks at Felix as if in confirmation, but he isn't sure what to say. His face is blank, an exact match for his current thoughts. Juniper sets her mug carefully onto the floor.

"Had to borrow your shirt, I hope you don't mind," she says, interrupting the awkward silence, and beginning to undo the buttons. "I had to run a quick errand. And I thought Tom might chuck me out if I showed up downstairs like this." She indicates the ridiculously thin and clinging fabric underneath his shirt that served as her blouse from the previous evening.

"Of course not," murmurs Felix. It's a moment before he processes her words, distracted as he is by her new state of undress, but before he can ask any questions, Juniper continues.

"I may need you to conjure something up for me to wear, if you can. I've got a fair bit to do this morning and I can't do it in this. And I don't really carry my wand much anymore," she admits with a small, resigned smile.

This rouses Felix from his stupor. He scoots across the rumpled sheets to sit closer to her.

"Juniper, it's...good that you feel a bit better, but you really shouldn't overdo it. If there's things you need to do, let me take care of it. You need to take it easy for a while. Get back to Khanna's before that Auror - Moody - finds out."

This time, Juniper's smile reaches her eyes. Which still seem tired and sad, but no longer have the terrifying dead look of yesterday.

"Felix," she begins, then shakes her head as if overcome with what she has to say. "You are...extraordinary. But you can't do everything for me. I've got about a dozen apologies I need to make and they need to be done sooner rather than later. Starting with you."

"Me?" Felix raises his eyebrows in surprise. "What for?"

"Everything." Juniper shifts on the lumpy mattress to face Felix more fully. "Ignoring you. Worrying you. Making you come all the way up here. Just being stupid and selfish. You've no idea how embarrassed I am about all this."

"You don't have to be embarrassed," argues Felix, but Juniper interrupts, face screwed up as if in pain.

"I could have cost you your job, Felix!" she exclaims. "You've given up your whole life for this job, and worked so hard, and this is the second time I've almost jeopardised that. But I promise it's the last." She takes a steadying breath and picks at the fabric criss-crossing her legs. "Look, I'm not pretending like - like I'm better or-or back to normal or anything, I know I'm not. I don't even know what normal looks like for me anymore. I'm sure it's not what it used to be. But, I think...I might be past the worst of it now. Entirely because of you." Juniper shoots him a small, embarrassed smile. "I think... I'm thinking more clearly than I have in a while, and I- I know the direction I need to go, even if it's going to take me forever to get there. So you don't have to worry about me anymore. And I- I just need to know that nothing's changed - between us, I mean."

Everything in Felix's chest crumples. His insides sinking toward his feet, leaving his legs heavy and leaden and his head too light. Keeping upright is suddenly the only thing he can concentrate on. Juniper, still looking determinedly at her legs where she's plucked a hole in the fabric of her stockings, notices nothing.

"I know I've still got a long way to go, and I think the only way I can get through it is if I know that you're - that we're - still friends. That I haven't messed that up being...being stupid."

She finally lifts her eyes to peer furtively into his face, and Felix can't imagine what it looks like now, but it feels like it's been turned to stone.

"Of course," he hears himself say, and Juniper sighs, shoulders relaxing in relief.

"I know it doesn't make up for everything I've put you through, but," she fumbles with the waistband of her skirt, retrieving a small slip of parchment. "I've got a portkey all arranged for you. It's set up to leave in an hour, and it'll actually take you inside the Reserve itself. Or it should. I've got it from a, well, a source that owed me a favour, and he's really only semi-reliable at the best of times, but he staked his hoodie on this portkey working, and that's really the highest promise I could wrench from him."

Felix listens to Juniper prattle on without really hearing. At some point, she pauses, and inspects his face more closely.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Felix can't respond. He doesn't feel anything.

He feels nothing when they say goodbye, a brief embrace and an awkward smile all Juniper is willing to bestow. Nor when he arrives in Romania, marching straight to the Peruvian Vipertooth grounds to relieve Rashbold, who is fortunately too exhausted to ask many questions. Felix continues to feel nothing as he takes the next shifts, his body going through the familiar motions without the help of any conscious thought. It's only when he returns to his quiet, dusty room, crawls under the tatty sheet of his camp bed, and buries his face in his pillow that tears finally come.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: This chapter and the next were originally one, but the length got away from me and it had to be separated. So this story has been changed to 16 chapters (guess that can be good or bad news depending on how much you want this story to be over).**

_Summary: Better sense is screaming at Felix that this is possibly the worst idea he's ever had, that he's about to undo all the progress he's made. But though his better sense has maintained the upper hand most of the last year, thirty minutes with Juniper is enough to send it packing to the very back of his mind…_

* * *

"Allow me to introduce my son, Felix." The Rosier Patriarch offers the young woman's hand to his son, who accepts and bends over it stiffly, making eye contact for only the briefest second. "I believe you two have quite a bit in common. I'll leave you to chat."

Felix twists his mouth into what passes for a smile at these sort of society parties, while inwardly he groans. His father's attempts to facilitate interactions with pure-blood girls are usually more adroit. But with his first year as a Dragonologist in Peru a success and with no plans to return to England anytime soon, Felix supposes his father is getting a bit desperate.

Felix glances at the clock on the mantle, mentally calculating how much longer before he can leave without disturbing propriety.

"You are an alchemist, then?"

The voice, low for a woman and shaded by a light, lilting accent, startles Felix, as does the unusual question.

"I beg your pardon?"

"An alchemist," the young woman repeats. She's the same height as Felix and meets his eyes steadily. "Your father is sure we will have much in common, you and I. I assume that means you are an alchemist, also?"

Felix permits himself the smallest of smirks. "I'm afraid not. My father is under the impression that being pure-blood is the only important commonality between any two people."

"I see." The young woman flicks dark, wavy tresses over her shoulder and smiles, revealing a dimple in one cheek. "Then we have one thing in common after all. My parents are also, as the English say, old-fashioned."

She winks. Dark lashes flutter over dark eyes, and Felix takes his first serious look at Aurelie Dumont.

Felix knows he would not usually be permitted to sequester himself in a corner, making interesting conversation with a single person while the party drags on around him. His father pokes his head round the corner every quarter hour to scrutinise the pair of them, but this is more amusing than annoying to Felix. For once, he's in the company of someone else who notices and understands and laughs quietly alongside him. Felix spends the entire evening with Aurelie, who stays long past the fashionable hour, and when she finally takes her leave, it's with the promise of a letter to follow.

* * *

Aurelie does write, and Felix writes back. It isn't the comfortable, easy correspondence he shares with Juniper; it's something altogether different. It's titillating, exchanging flirtations with a beautiful, intelligent woman, interested in Felix in a way no beautiful, intelligent woman has ever been before. And it isn't long before the desire to see her again wins out. Leave from Peru isn't easy, but Felix manages, trekking miles to designated apparition points to visit Aurelie in France whenever he has time to spare, sometimes for only a single evening.

In spite of their mutual interest in each other, their first time together is awkward and unnerving. Felix does his best, but he feels certain he has not quite met Aurelie's well-established standard; something about her desire for distance through the night and her rapid retreat the next morning. As with everything in life, Felix resolves to work harder, do better, and eventually achieve his customary level of perfection. He does what research he's able, pays more attention to the fireside conversations of the other men on his team, even daring a few well-placed and casual questions.

But instead of becoming more comfortable with time, each liaison seems to drive them further apart. Felix began to dread the uneasy silence that sags between them as they lay next to each other in the dark, and is always relieved when Aurelie takes her leave swiftly afterward. Her interest in him seems to cool distinctly as the year progresses. She has absolutely no desire to visit him in Peru, and can no longer even feign an interest in dragons or his work, except to mention rather pointedly in one curt letter how "all that" will need to be wrapped up before they can be married.

At this, Felix balks. He's always known this was the endgame for the two of them - he has a shrewd idea both families have already decided on dates and divided up holidays - but the idea of abandoning his newfound freedom for a lifetime laying next to this woman, cold and beautiful and sharp as a diamond, is utterly terrifying. Instead, Felix throws himself into his correspondence with Juniper, who points out that Aurelie isn't the only eligible, pureblood woman in the world. She reminds him he's hardly done any serious investigation into the subject, and encourages him to hold out.

"There's got to be at least one pure-blood girl out there with a passing interest in dragons. It'd be a shame for you to settle for someone that can't appreciate all your talent," she writes, in a letter Felix folds and unfolds so many times, the parchment eventually falls into pieces he has to tape back together. He can't stop re-reading it. The words make him glow. Aurelie's early letters teem with tantalising coquetry, but Juniper simply declares her compliments like established points of fact. If Aurelie is a diamond, then Juniper is a dragon egg; rougher and hotter, a different sort of object altogether, but infinitely more precious to Felix.

Felix can't imagine Juniper ever permitting a chilly silence to blow between them as they lay in bed together. Juniper, with her easy laughs and natural way of setting people at ease, would know exactly what to say to make those moments beautiful and memorable, even if he doesn't. They're hard for Felix to picture with no good point of reference, but he feels instinctively that nights with Juniper would be better.

Which is what makes the aftermath of their brief tryst so much harder to bear.

* * *

Felix returns to work as usual, but there's an ache inside him he cannot soothe, like a miniature dragon tooth lodged in his flesh. Unbearable waves of longing and pain beat against him every minute of the day, exhausting him and keeping his fractured nerves on fire. True focus is impossible. He's caught between an unquenchable thirst for Juniper and resonating, bitter anger for the way she's treated him. After every sacrifice he's made for her, Juniper is unwilling even to try. He didn't know it was possible to hate and love somebody so fiercely and simultaneously.

_ I don't want things to change_. Her words kick at his already bruised brain. Somehow, in spite of everything he had done, he still had not been good enough. On some level, Felix knows it must be his fault. He should never have let that night occur. He had rushed in senselessly, swept away by emotion, just as he had the night she'd been attacked. How might everything have been different if he'd only listened to his common sense? The regret makes him physically ill.

Juniper's first letter arrives a week after his return, and Felix can't prevent his heart leaping into his throat when he recognises the hand-writing. For a few wild minutes, as he finds a quiet spot and tears into the envelope with shaky fingers, he's convinced everything will be fixed. Surely Juniper will be fit to burst with desperate apologies and confessions of feelings she was too muddled to express before. But as Felix scans the lines eagerly, his hopes are dashed. It's a few dutiful paragraphs about Juniper's return to the Khanna tree farm, her reconciliation with her friends, some minor improvement in her hands as she focuses on her healing once more, and her subsequent decision to return to school. She's breezy and pleasant, as if nothing remotely intimate had ever passed between them. Felix throws the offensive parchment into the fire, then spends the evening meticulously reassembling the ashes.

His late night craft project makes Felix late for the next day's shift, and it's a testament to his genuine enervation that he doesn't even notice. Nor does he notice the eyes of his Senior Dragonologist following him as he wanders into the Peruvian Vipertooth habitat an hour past his scheduled time. Felix goes through the motions of inspecting his dragon, instructing his team of assistants in a weary, hollow voice, entirely oblivious to his superior's expression of growing concern. It isn't until Felix fails to notice the tell-tale signs of impending flame from the mercurial young Vipertooth and has to be yanked out of harm's way by a terrified assistant that Luis Rashbold steps in. Barking orders over his shoulder to the rest of the team, Rashbold heaves his junior dragonologist out of the fray by the back of his neck, and half-drags him across the grounds to a carefully concealed paddock.

The simple covered lean-to serves as a hidden observation deck for researchers and other less daring visitors to the Reserve. One long window looks out over the grounds, offering a splendid view of the team of wizards now stunning the legs out from under the rampaging she-dragon, but the paddock's various enchantments prevent anyone outside seeing within.

Rashbold tosses an indignantly spluttering Felix onto one of the paddock's three-legged stools.

"Alright, talk," demands the bulky dragonologist, looming over Felix, fists on hips.

Felix straightens on the low seat, glaring at Rashbold with what little dignity he can scrounge up.

"What are you on about?"

"Pack it in that," Rashbold scolds. "You nearly had it back there! A blind streeler could have dodged that flame, yet my junior dragonologist wants the aid of a bunch of teenagers to keep himself kickin'. What in Merlin's name's going on with you?"

Felix rubs the back of his neck mulishly. "I'm just...tired. Not enough sleep last night."

"Rubbish. You've been shirty and careless for a week now, ever since you got back from your little furlough. You can't possibly be this bad at your job, or you'd never have survived Peru."

Felix pushes off from the stool brusquely.

"It won't happen again," he assures his superior, voice dripping with obsequious sarcasm, but Rashbold refuses to be goaded.

"It will," he replies coolly,"If you don't get whatever's eating you off your mind. Keep this up and you're going to get yourself killed. And you can't even imagine the paperwork nightmare that is."

Felix says nothing. He squares up against Rashbold, calculating his chances of successfully pushing past the much larger man and reaching the exit.

"It's that girl, isn't it. The one you went to see?" pries Rashbold doggedly, ignoring Felix's murderous look. "I can put two and two together as well as the next bloke. She turned you down, didn't she? Or called it off?"

It's no good, concludes Felix bitterly; even if he were in peak condition, there's no way he could draw his wand on Rashbold before the brawny man knocked it from his hand. Instead, Felix emits a noise somewhere between disgust and exasperation and storms off to the window. He watches the technicians conduct routine scale care on the now unconscious dragon, and waits for the heat in his face to cool. He doesn't really expect his little tantrum to defeat the obstinate Rashbold, and he braces himself for further inquisition. He's therefore caught off guard when Rashbold speaks again in a voice oddly gruff and choked, as if trying to force a soothing tone through a throat not constructed for it.

"C'mon, mate. It happens to the best of us. Nothing to be ashamed of. It's hell, but we've all been there, haven't we? It'll be right."

Tears, something Felix has managed to avoid for so much of his life and now finds himself constantly threatened by, prick at the corners of his eyes. He wishes Rashbold would yell at him or berate him, even draw his wand. Felix has defences for all of those things. He has no armour for this sort of camaraderie.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Felix tries to snarl, but it comes out too wet to be threatening.

There's a pause, then the scrape of a stool being pulled across ground, and the creaking protest of wood as Rashbold settles his bulk into it.

"Alright then. Tell it me."

It's neither sarcastic nor saccharine. Just a plain invitation. And words slip out from around the growing lump in Felix's throat before he can even decide what to say. Ironically, it reminds him of conversations with Juniper in his final year at Hogwarts. She, too, had a knack for wrenching Felix's voice from him without his conscious consent, as though she knew a secret password to his thoughts he didn't know existed.

To Felix's own astonishment, he finds himself confessing nearly everything to do with Juniper, from his first inkling of feeling for an unlikely fourteen year old, to his arrival at her Quidditch match, and the horrid mess that followed. But when he reaches the final part of the story, something stops him short. Some piece of well-honed propriety simply will not allow him to discuss _that_ with this man he barely knows.

"I didn't know where else to go so I took her back to the Leaky Cauldron and I...we... had a discussion. I...made it clear how I felt about her, that I loved her. But...she said...she didn't want things to change."

Felix takes a deep shuddering breath. All this uncharacteristic openness makes him woozy and in need of a sit, but he isn't ready to turn and face Rashbold just yet. He hears whining notes of concern from the stool indicating the large body on it has shifted positions.

"Nah, you don't."

Felix cocks his head, wondering if he hasn't understood Rashbold around his heavy accent.

"Don't what?"

"You don't love this girl," Rashbold declares broadly. It's such a strange response to everything Felix has just said that it takes a minute for him to interpret it as an insult and allow defensive anger to rear its head.

"Yes, I do!" he protests, whipping around to face Rashbold defiantly. The bulky man has his long legs kicked out in front of him and his arms behind his head, in a supremely relaxed manner that Felix is sure must be for show since he can't possibly be comfortable balancing all his weight on that ridiculously small stool.

"Nah, mate. You love the _idea_ of this girl," Rashbold explains, and his need to appear so at ease in the face of Felix's heart-rending story makes Felix's blood boil. He stares daggers at Rashbold, but the older man only continues coaxingly, "C'mon, mate. You couldn't even name two things you liked about her beside what? She's smart, kind, beautiful? Anyone you catch the bug for sounds like that. I'm not insulting your girl." He holds up a conciliatory hand, catching sight of Felix's flared nostrils. "I'm sure she's lovely and all, when she's not being a bit of a drama queen, but the rest? All that stuff you love about her? It's all made up in your head."

Rashbold suddenly sits up, propping his arms on his knees. "Tell me this. What's her favourite colour, your girl?"

Felix blinks. "What?"

"Her favourite colour," Rashbold repeats, very slowly and deliberately as if to a small child. "The colour she likes best. What is it?"

It's such an insipid question, Felix actually snorts before giving his memory a quick scan. A favourite colour? Surely that had come up naturally in conversation once, or been mentioned off-hand in a letter? But if it had, Felix can't call the information to mind. Panicking slightly, he grabs hold of the colour she sports in the majority of his memories:

"Green! She's always wearing green."

A supercilious smile crosses Rashbold's face.

"That's house colours mate. Not the same thing." He changes tact before Felix can argue. "How does she take her tea, then?"

This time, Felix pales a little. He's seen Juniper drink tea, on multiple occasions. Had she put anything in it? Probably. He's never noticed.

"How about a favourite meal? Or favourite Quidditch team?" Rashbold inquires, that infuriating smile still playing about his lips. "Do you know where she lives? Her parents names? Do you even know _her_ full name?"

"What does any of that matter?" Felix bursts in agitation, "That's all - that's just...little things. They're not important."

"No, mate." Rashbold shakes his head, the condescending smile replaced by a look of uncharacteristic earnestness. "That little stuff, that's everything. That's who people really are. A bunch of little quirks and preferences and opinions all jumbled together. If you don't know all the little things about someone, you don't really know them at all. Just an idea of them. It's like fancying a celebrity in a magazine. You don't love them as a person, you just love their picture and all the stuff you've imagined about them."

Rashbold stands, ignoring Felix's open-mouthed umbrage, and brushes off his trousers briskly. "You'll be right, mate. Trust me. Give it a few weeks, it'll all fade and you'll be back in business. Just try not to get yourself burnt to crisp before then."

He claps a burly hand to Felix's shoulder briefly, dark eyes twinkling, before striding from the paddock.

* * *

Righteous indignation toward Rashbold takes the place of Felix's regularly scheduled misery for the rest of the day. What does Rashbold know about him and Juniper? Absolutely nothing. And it isn't his business anyway, great nosy git. And what was he, Felix, playing at telling the older man things he's never confessed to anyone before? This whole situation must truly be driving him mad.

But for all his justified resentment toward Rashbold, part of Felix can't help but feel touched at the older man's interest in him, his willingness to sit and listen to what Felix had to say. It's a rare enough occurrence. The only other person who has ever been quite so conscientious about Felix's emotional well-being was, well, Juniper.

And Rashbold's blunt words suddenly click into place in Felix's head.

_What if he's right?_ thinks Felix as he tosses and turns on his camp bed that night. After all, aren't his favourite letters from Juniper the ones where she talks about him? Complimenting him? Comforting him? Ruminating on their correspondence, Felix realises they hardly ever discuss Juniper herself, beyond her illicit Cursed Vault adventures and his constant admonitions that she stay safe. He's always thought he knew Juniper better than nearly anyone, that was why he loved her, after all; but maybe what he really loved was having someone who cared about him.

Felix rolls over and folds his arms behind his head. What does he know about Juniper, then? Well, that she's impulsive and reckless, talented, but with a rather short attention span, shrewd as any Slytherin when it comes to solving mysteries, yet somehow oblivious to anyone or anything that doesn't matter to her at that moment, including schoolwork. Nearly the opposite of him in every way, when it comes right down to it. The more Felix mulls it over, the more he realises the Juniper he's in love with is mostly fantasy, a character he built in his head. The loss of which might be disappointing, but it's nothing he can't recover from because, in the end, it isn't real.

_ It isn't real._

Felix repeats this idea like a mantra until sleep rescues him from further thought. And for the next months, he applies the phrase like a burn salve against his thoughts every time longing or grief threatens him.

Juniper's letters keep coming; every week at first, then every month once her final year of school begins. But for the first time since his graduation, Felix does not write back. He reads her accounts of her continued recovery and her inevitable adventures and practices maintaining an appropriate emotional distance.

Juniper informs him of her resignation as Slytherin Quidditch captain in favour of Skye Parkin, thus ending her illustrious school Quidditch career. _It isn't real_, Felix scolds the subsequent wriggle of pleasure at the idea of her spending significantly less time with Murphy McNully or Charlie Weasley.

Juniper is drawn back into the Cursed Vaults, as always, matching wits and wands with R once again. _It isn't real,_ Felix reminds himself as worry for her safety guts him. She's a talented witch, fully of age, able to make her own bad decisions and it's no skin off his nose if she's hurt.

And as the year draws to a close, the pain begins to fade, like scar tissue closing over a wound; until he can think of Juniper and feel nearly nothing, so long as he doesn't prod his feelings too forcefully.

Christmas comes and goes. Juniper tactfully neglects to mention their plans to see each other over the holiday in her December letter. Felix feels slightly guilty. It's the first year since he left school he hasn't sent her anything for Christmas, but he puts it out of his mind. She has plenty of friends, he assures himself, he doubts she'll even notice.

The new year drags on bleak and chill. For whatever reason, The Reserve doesn't fill Felix with the same elation Peru did. For the first time in years, he's stuck in one place, and largely alone, with nothing to occupy his newly acquired free time. For something to do, Felix begins to write. Publication is a requirement before one can apply for a Senior Dragonologist position. For the last four years, Felix has kept a notebook full of ideas and research topics for papers and even books he tells himself he'll write when he has the time. Now he does. He spends most of his spare moments writing and researching, but his enthusiasm for the enterprise quickly wanes.

As much as he tells himself he shouldn't, Felix misses talking to Juniper. Occasionally, he toys with the idea of replying to one of the letters she continues to send. It's been enough time now, he hardly feels anything at all toward her. What could it hurt? Only it's been so long since she heard from him last, Felix can't think of any way to begin a letter without addressing his extended silence, and the reason for it, and all his attempts end up crumpled in the waste bin.

True, Felix's fire for Juniper has been essentially smothered, his iron self-discipline has seen to that. But he can't help the occasional fantasy of Juniper appearing at the Reserve unexpectedly, concerned about his silence, and throwing her arms around him in joy the way she had after the Quidditch match last spring. He reminds himself dutifully that it isn't real love that generates this, just a desire to feel something, anything to break up the monotony of time cards and paperwork. But he allows it, if only for something to occupy his mind. Which is why, as he tromps through the dirty snow after his shift one particularly blustery morning, Felix doesn't immediately register the sight of Juniper waiting for him at the end of the path as real. She trots about in place, arms wrapped around herself, clearly freezing. Her head is tucked into her chest, hiding from the wind as best she can in her inadequate coat, so she doesn't notice Felix's tentative approach.

"Juniper?" he asks in disbelief.

The young woman looks up and smiles; a lop-sided grin Felix would recognise anywhere. She stomps through the snow toward where Felix has stopped in his tracks. His brain is no longer able to control his limbs, every cell engaged in reconciling Juniper's presence with reality.

"What - how-" Felix splutters as she marches nearer until she's close enough for him to make out the individual snowflakes dotting the top of her head. "What are you doing here?" he somehow manages to ask.

"Waiting for you. Or that's what I'm doing out here in the cold anyway. That man from the office - your office, I mean -he said you'd be back soon so I thought I'd try to catch you."

Felix's mouth opens and closes like a fish, while Juniper shivers and hunches deeper into her thin coat.

"Can we talk somewhere else? Warmer maybe?"

* * *

_A dream, this must be a dream_, thinks Felix. He's dreaming he's at the Reserve's only pub, sitting just across from a windswept Juniper attempting to breathe life back into her frozen fingers. The barman deposits two mugs of the locally popular warm, spiced Butterbeer, and Juniper wraps her hands around it gratefully. Felix can only stare. After a minute of strained silence, he pulls his mug toward him and takes a long swallow. The liquid scalds the roof of his mouth. Which has to mean he's awake. Which means Juniper really is here, in front of him. A bubbling excitement brews in his chest that his mantra cannot extinguish.

"The real reason I'm here," explains Juniper into her mug, "is...for a job interview."

Felix chokes on his second sip. He coughs into his hands while Juniper stares determinedly at the table, clenching her Butterbeer so tightly her knuckles are white.

"You're a dragonologist now, then?" asks Felix once his spluttering subsides.

"No," Juniper says, still refusing to meet Felix's eye. "I...wanted to apply for the open healing position here. I'm doing better, quite a bit better, actually." She nods at her hands wrapped around the mug, and it registers to Felix for the first time how still they are. "But St Mungo's only offers a limited number of intern positions to students out of school, and I know I won't score near high enough to get in. That was really sort of my whole post-school plan, on the off-chance I ever made it out alive. So I'm looking into alternatives, and Professor Snape mentioned this job. Apparently, the qualifications for healers here are a bit lax. I guess they sort of...take anyone they can get, so I thought I'd apply. But... I wanted to talk to you about it first."

Juniper's words seem to be reaching Felix's brain on a delay, so she has time to take another long swig of Butterbeer before Felix has processed her final statement.

"About what?" he asks belatedly.

"About the job. I mean...I won't take it if you don't want me to."

"Why...wouldn't I want you to take a job?" Felix asks slowly. Some combination of the cold and the surreality of Juniper's very presence makes him feel slow and stupid. He can't understand what she's asking of him. Juniper finally lifts her head fully, her expression unreadable.

"Felix, you haven't written all year."

It's Felix's turn to stare into his frothing mug. He raises it to his mouth, hiding as much of his face as he can.

"Yes, about that. I've been rather busy. I'm so-"

"You don't have to apologise," Juniper interjects hastily. "I understand. Completely. I didn't mean - I mean, I deserved it, and... you've had all this to get used to and I'm sure it's really overwhelming. I only meant - you know - this is your space, and if you don't want me to...intrude on it, I won't."

Pink patches that have nothing to do with cold appear on her cheeks as Juniper hides herself in her coat, and something about her obvious discomfort starts a primal fire inside Felix's stomach. It's a feeling he hasn't had in so long, and it jumpstarts his sluggish mental faculties.

"Not at all," Felix tells her. Juniper shoots a confused look at him and he clarifies, "I mean, I don't mind. At all. In fact, I think it's an excellent idea."

Juniper makes a valiant effort to raise her eyebrows. "You do?"

"Yes," Felix replies, an almost giddy smile appearing on his face at her familiar expression. He hides it behind a hand, tilted in front of his mouth in a gesture of thoughtfulness. "I think it'd be good for you to get out of the country for a bit. You'd do quite well here. You're not scared of dragons, good under pressure. And we can't seem to keep a healer."

"Yeah, that's what the director said. Guivré ."

"You've met Guivré ?"

"Yeah, for the interview." Juniper leans forward in her seat, warming to their conversation. "He didn't even seem to care about the fact that I haven't taken the NEWTs yet, and he didn't ask anything about my marks. Wouldn't even look at my transcripts. He just asked about the Cursed Vaults, mostly. And that time with the common welsh green in my third year."

Felix no longer bothers to hide his grin. "That sounds about right. That's exactly the sort of person he is. He believes experience is a better teacher than education. So, you've already had the interview, then?"

Juniper colours once more and retreats back into her coat. "Um...yeah. Yeah, I did first thing this morning. Sorry, I did want to talk to you first, but-"

Felix overrides her apology. "Did he mention whether he liked you for the job or not?"

Juniper takes a shallow, shaky breath. "Yes, actually. He - he said it's mine if I want it." She tries to purse her lips over a proud smile. "But I told him I had to think about it."

"Take it."

For the first time that day, Juniper meets Felix's eyes.

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

Both their faces flush with heat at the memory of the last time this word passed between them. Felix looks away first, clearing his throat.

"Alright. I will then," Juniper says. "Thank you." She takes another sip of butterbeer, holding the mug close to her body as if relishing the heat or the ability to keep the mug upright, while Felix's brain goes to war.

Better sense is screaming at Felix that this is possibly the worst idea he's ever had, that he's about to undo all the progress he's made. But though his better sense has maintained the upper hand most of the last year, thirty minutes with Juniper is enough to send it packing to the very back of his mind where its screams sound more like squeaks, leaving Felix free to revel in the sense of elation blossoming through him at the idea of living in close proximity to Juniper once again.

"So," Juniper interrupts Felix's musings, " Guivré didn't mention where people live while they're here? Does everyone...apparate in, or...?"

"Some do, yes. There's limited housing on the Reserve itself, but there's a few buildings they've turned into flats. Dragonologists generally have seniority, then the assistants and researchers and everyone else."

"Oh." Juniper falls silent, picking at a spot on the table with a fingernail, and it takes Felix a minute to understand what her nerves are about.

"I'm sure I can get you a place on the grounds. In case you'd rather not apparate."

"I can," she insists. "If I have to. It's not a big deal, it's just...I'm not really supposed to do it all the time, and-"

"It's not a problem," Felix assures her. "I'll figure something out." He basks in the glow of Juniper's wide, grateful smile. And a brilliant idea occurs to Felix that makes his demoted better sense absolutely livid.

* * *

"You sure about this?" asks the nervous young assistant, staring at the proferred key as though it were likely to turn into a snake and strike him.

"Yes, Lambton, I'm sure and please don't ask again," says Felix trying hard to keep exasperation from his voice. He dangles the key out to the gawky teenager.

"But...you're sure this is allowed? The Upper Flats are for proper dragonologists. Won't I be out of place?"

Felix grits his teeth. "Don't you want to be a proper dragonologist yourself one day?"

"Yeah, o' course."

"Well, then," Felix cajoles, "how better to learn than to _live_ with proper dragonologists? You can make friends, get extra help on your research. It'll be a major stepping stone for your career!"

" 'Spose that's true..." Felix watches the boy's dull eyes light up slowly at the prospect. He reaches out for Felix's key and fishes in a pocket for his own.

"But...why would you want to live in the Lower Flats?" Lambton asks, holding his key out to Felix. "They're absolute shite, you know."

"Never you mind," snaps Felix, snatching the key from Lambton's twitchy fingers.

* * *

Those Dragonologists wishing to save a bit of money and be as close to their dragons as possible are usually put up in the Upper Flats, an old but dignified building that had probably once been a large manor house before the Reserve bought the land. It's nearly always cold, and not lavishly furnished, but it passes for comfort and the Dragonologists have little complaints; or if they do, they simply move on as soon as they're able.

The Lower Flats is the cruel moniker given the ramshackle building just down the path from the Upper Flats. No one knows what, if any, sort of building it had been before the Reserve got hold of it and added on stories and side rooms with whatever materials were to hand, but it now has more in common with Frankenstein's monster than any traditional forms of architecture. These flats are given to assistants and researchers, or any Reserve staff members or visitors the director wants to get rid of. Lambton, being the most recent addition to the Reserve, had a top three-bedroom flat all to himself. However, once another new low-level employee arrived, such as a healer, he'd be forced to share. That is, until Felix graciously offered to swap flats with the young man for reasons Felix is well aware of and is determined not to think about too closely.

Felix has heard assistants complain long and often about how the building ought to be condemned, but he's always assumed them to be exaggerating. Right up to the moment his foot smashes through one of the rough hewn planks serving as stairs. It takes Felix a disproportionate amount of time to reach the top floor, as he carefully circumvents the more wobbly "steps", presumably held in place by magic, but not a particularly trustworthy sort. At the top of the winding staircase, he nudges what passes for a door open with his foot. The wood slab separates from the frame with a horrid screeching sound, swinging inward to reveal squalor Felix was previously unaware humans could live in.

He gulps as he steps inside with exceptional caution. There a disconcerting number of burn-holes in the floorboards. The walls are covered in an uneven layer of green fuzz that on closer inspection appears to be the remains of old, peeling wall paper. There's a sofa in the great room that's predominately springs, and a simple unlikely mattress is the only furniture provided in each of the bedrooms. But even the thick layers of cobwebs decorating the corners isn't enough to kill Felix's growing excitement. It'll be work, but he's always been excellent at those household-y sort of spells, and it will give him something to occupy his time until Juniper arrives. Felix settles into his renovation project in higher spirits than he's had in months.

Unable to wait for June to reveal the news to Juniper, Felix starts up their correspondence once more. He informs her he's found her a room on the Reserve, and mentions in passing that it's in the same flat as his, neglecting to illuminate any of the circumstances that have made such a happy coincidence possible. Juniper's response is as enthusiastic as he could have hoped. She makes the expected number of jokes about his newly reinstated status as her live-in prefect followed by a more serious assurance that she's "really glad" to be near him again. Felix is just worrying his cheekbones might fracture from the force of his smile when her next line forces the bottom out of his stomach.

"I forgot to mention I have a friend who'll be coming to the Reserve this summer, as well! He got a job as a junior assistant the same time as me, so I imagine he'll be living near us if there's room. I've mentioned him before, not sure if you remember. Charlie Weasley?"


	10. Chapter 10

_Summary:_  
_"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let your first day here be all misery?"_  
_"I thought you were a dragonologist now, not a gentleman."_  
_"They're not mutually exclusive."_

* * *

His first week in Romania, Felix had been diligent about scourgifying himself after every shift. But magic, it seemed, had a harder time sluicing off dragon-related filth, and the spell never seemed to catch it all, leaving a distinct outdoors-y smell and a crusty stain about his clothes. More importantly, dirt and grime seemed to be a badge of honour here. Felix quickly discovered only newcomers and theoretical researchers, both regularly mocked by the resident dragonologists, bothered to clean themselves more than once a day. Desperate to fit in, Felix had learned to relax some of his more fastidious habits. Which is why it takes him nearly fifteen minutes of frantic searching to finally locate his long-disused bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion at the bottom of an old trunk.

Grey pre-dawn light meanders across the dingy bathroom mirror as Felix applies liberal amounts of the potion to his hair, refusing to think too deeply about why. He pulls the nicer of his summer work shirts over his head, attempts to charm the worst of the wrinkles out of his trousers, and even spends a few minutes bent over his boots before he's forced to give them up as a lost cause. It would take days to remove all the layers of mud and muck.

Felix stares at his newly groomed reflection, nerves chewing a hole in the lining of his stomach. All he's done is dress himself up for disappointment, he thinks ruthlessly. His best has never been enough to impress Juniper, not for the results he wants, anyway. And he ought not to be attempting to impress her at all. She's coming here with Charlie Weasley, she's made her feelings about Felix clear, and that's all there is to it.

Anxiety wrings the last of Felix's confidence from him like a dishrag. Suddenly the prospect of seeing Juniper arrive with that ridiculous red-head is unbearable, and, in spite of the fact that he's woken at the crack of dawn on his day off specifically to greet Juniper as soon as she arrives, Felix flees the flat.

The sun is just beginning to warm the hard ground as Felix walks, quickly as dignity will allow, down the Reserve's main path toward the modest cul-de-sac of buildings. Better sense commands him _not_ to glance across at the long-abandoned Hospital cottage. He looks anyway. The windows are as dark and disused as they've been all year, but the observation does nothing to settle his writhing nerves. Juniper might be in the main building, the same one he's headed for, receiving instructions from Guivré. The Romanian Reserve Director doesn't believe in staff meetings or long-winded introductions, but Juniper might take it upon herself to explore the building, make friends with the other dragonologists as soon as she can. That's the sort of thing she would do.

Felix's heart is pounding in his ears as he enters the building and nearly sprints through the mercifully-empty halls. He reaches his cramped office without meeting anyone, and sinks into the wobbly chair, panting slightly. There's sweat beading Felix's brow, and a lone strand of dark hair escapes his severe part. He tucks it back into place, and wonders how on Earth he's supposed to work under these conditions.

_ Perhaps Juniper won't stay at the Reserve long_, Felix thinks as he starts on the paperwork mountain Rashbold has left piled on the desk; _none of the other healers have_. But the wish has no real will behind it. Juniper has never been one to shy away from a challenge. And the little pangs of terror the thought inspires reluctantly confirm to Felix that he still wants Juniper here, in spite of her unwelcome companion.

Taking a long, slow breath Felix forces composure through his limbs. Allowing himself to ruminate on the whole bloody mess is pointless, and sours his stomach. Forgoing enchantment, he fixes his eyes on the typewriter and uses his fingers to depress the keys manually. It's a slow, laborious process, but it keeps his feelings at bay and his mind from wandering. Felix turns the entirety of his attention to typing up Rashbold's report from yesterday, then the one from the day before. He works until his hand hits desk instead of parchment, and he's surprised to find he's already come to the end of the stack.

A low rumble of voices echoes from down the hall, and a quick glance at his pocket watch reveals the morning is almost over. When means, Felix realizes with a lurch, Juniper must be really, truly here. He's just wondering where she might be now when the light from the hall is suddenly blocked by a tall figure in a distinctive hat.

"Rosier? What are you doing here?" asks Grahame from the doorway. "Thought you were off today?"

"I was just catching up on paperwork," Felix says quickly, feeling oddly guilty, as though he were caught doing something forbidden. " We were about to lose the desk under it."

Yeah, well, you might think about catching up on sleep. You've got circles like a coon."

A year ago, the comparison would have meant nothing to Felix, but he's spent enough time with the Reserve's resident American to become accustomed to his colourful turns of phrase. He manages a brittle smile.

"I'll think about it."

How 'bout some coffee then?"

"Oh. Well, if you have some to spare." Felix tries to keep his voice from sounding to eager, though he stands so fast the chair legs rattle.

" 'Course." Grahame pushes off from the doorframe and saunters down the hall to his own slightly larger office, Felix just behind him. "I'm brewing way too much in the morning now, since you took off." He flashes an accusatory look over his shoulder. "Still can't believe you did that. I mean, I know McFusty had everyone riled up about your family for a while, but they'll get bored of it. You didn't have to run and hide."

Grahame nudges open the door of his office, and Felix follows him inside stiffly. This isn't the first time he's had to bite his tongue around Grahame's thoughtless comments. One of the outspoken American's favorite pastimes is voicing observations better kept to himself. Not the sort of person Felix would typically have any patience for, but Grahame has other qualities to make up for his tactlessness; namely, a never-ending supply of strong coffee and a generous nature.

Grahame sets his hat on the desk next to a large thermos, and rummages about in a drawer for a cup.

"I don't get all this bad blood between y'all anyway. I mean, it's not like _you're_ one of those...what do you call 'em? Death speakers? It's-"

"Grahame," interrupts Felix tightly. He keeps his eyes fixed on the thermos of coffee, praying to it for patience. "Drop it. Please." In spite of his best effort, the words come out far too frosty to be considered polite. But rudeness runs off the American like rain from the rim of his hat. Grahame merely shakes his head and pours coffee from the thermos into the spare cup.

"I reckon you know best," Grahame concedes. He hands the cup to Felix who takes it with a nod of thanks and inhales the comfortingly scalding steam. "But I'm still sorry you're stuck in the shit shacks. Although..." Grahame's eyes suddenly light up slyly. "Guess this means you'll be seeing more of our new healer."

Felix's throat constricts tightly. His first sip of coffee is left swimming between his teeth as he tries to remember how to swallow. "Oh," he mumbles noncommittally when his mouth is free again. For once, he's grateful for Grahame's inability to pick up on social cues.

"Yep. Just got here this morning. Go by the med cottage when you have a chance and take a look. She's a peach."

Felix nearly drops his cup.

"Just out of school I think," continues Grahame, entirely oblivious to Felix's tightening jaw. "Can't be more than 18. We'll finally have something to look at besides McFusty. I know Sigeburt and Gil have already asked her to drinks, and there's money on who she says yes to first. I think Alexei's got the pot if you're interested. Personally, my bet's on - Hey! You're not going to finish your coffee?" Grahame calls after Felix's rapidly retreating back.

* * *

Felix speeds down the gravel walk toward the hospital cottage, all pretense of cool indifference gone. The blood pounding in his ears keeps time with his feet as his brain scolds him for being eleven kinds of moron. Why, oh why, did this never occur to him? He's been around the pub enough to know the lack of girls makes up a large proportion of the casual conversation among the predominately male dragonologists. Of the three female dragonologists present at the Reserve, two manage to keep themselves from intense scrutiny by their advanced age and the third -

Felix skids to a halt to avoid crashing into the stocky, muscular body and long red braid of the Reserve's youngest female dragonologist as she steps out of the hospital cottage's doorway. Instinct, recognising the impending danger, peddles his feet back just a step before dignity demands he stand his ground, matching the emerald eyes glare for glare.

"Rosier."

"McFusty."

The woman's eyes flicker into twin green flames as if Felix's cool pronunciation of her name were a grievous insult. "What do you want?" she asks fiercely, crossing her arms and planting herself in the doorway as if to block his entrance.

Felix smirks. The presence of his least favorite person at the Reserve gives his anxiety a purpose and a target. Enemies, he knows how to handle.

"To see our new healer, of course," he replies with perfect innocence. "But only if you're quite finished. I'm sure you need her assistance far more than I. Didn't your last attempt at anti-venom cause an outbreak of boils?"

McFusty's nostrils flare in such an accurate impression of the Hebridean Blacks she cares for that Felix wouldn't be surprised if actual sparks shot from them. She whips her head around to call over her shoulder into the cottage, "This'll be one of those unsavoury types I mentioned. Do let me know if he bothers you," McFusty meets Felix's eyes once more as she finishes, "I'll be happy to hex him a new hole."

Satisfied with the last word, McFusty steps out of the cottage, careful to bump hard into Felix's shoulder on her way down the walk. Felix contents himself with another superior watches the angry red-head out of the corner of his eye as she marches away, years of experience reminding him just how possible a parting hex might be.

"What was that about?" calls a voice from inside the building that drives McFusty entirely from Felix's mind.

Excitement bubbling in his chest, Felix steps into the dimly lit cottage and jumps back hastily when the floor crunches under his feet. Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the change in light, Felix squints at the ground, then around the building's one large room. He wonders how it earned the generous title of "cottage" when "dilapidated shack" would be more accurate. Everything he can see appears to be dusty or broken or a combination of the two. What had appeared in the darkness to be piles of garbage carpeting the floor turn out, in fact, to actually _be_ piles of garbage. There's hardly a wooden floorboard that isn't buried under cracked and broken jars and bottles, rotten bouquets of dried herbs and plants, or crushed, empty boxes. And sitting cross-legged in the middle of the rubble, like a queen surveying her unruly subjects, is Juniper.

For all his apprehension about this very moment, Felix can't stop elation surging through him as he takes in the sight. Juniper, in her trademark jeans and jumper (Slytherin green, he notes), here, in the same place as him, after all this time. Somehow, it's both soothing and exciting, and Felix wishes he could be allowed to just quietly enjoy her presence for a few minutes. But Juniper's watching him expectantly, head cocked to the side, the wand she's stuck through her loose bun wobbling slightly, and he realizes he hasn't answered her question.

"It's...nothing," replies Felix belatedly. He can hear the slight tremor of joy in his voice and struggles to keep his face impassive. Juniper doesn't appear to notice. She leans across a small pile of uncorked bottles to scribble something on a roll of parchment nearly two feet long.

"Well, if you're here for burn salve or anti-venom or...anything really it'll just have to wait," she says testily, without looking up. "Every single thing in here is either empty or unlabeled, it's going to take me at least a week to sort through it all. And all the ingredients are gone off as well, so there's no way to make anything till I've got more. I'm making up a list now, and I'll get it to Guivré just as soon as I can but I don't know how quickly the post runs here, so I really can't give you a time estimate." She runs a distracted hand through her hair, dust leaving a faint white streak.

Felix's lips twitch of their own accord. He clears his throat into his hand to hide them.

"You'd do better to send off for anything you need yourself and then file for reimbursement. You'll get it a good deal faster. Guivré's a hard person to track down and he doesn't consider paperwork a priority. Anything you leave in his office could very well sit there for months."

"Alright then," says Juniper, voice noticeably bereft of her characteristic cheer. She gets to her feet, neatly avoiding the toppling piles of rubbish propped against her, and rolls up her parchment. "I'll do it myself. I don't suppose you could point me to the post office? The bloke who showed me in took my owl from me. He said something about them not being allowed to fly here?"

"Yes, there's no loose owls allowed on the Reserve. They have to be kept at the Post Office and flown in designated areas. Apparently, they used to fly over the dragon habitats and get eaten. Cost the Reserve a fortune in recompense." Felix trails away when he realises Juniper hasn't heard a word. She's turning round in a circle, eyes on the floor, kicking aside debris with increasingly frantic movements. "Have you lost something?"

"My wand," Juniper exclaims angrily, now patting the pockets of her dust-covered jeans. She lets out a groan of frustration when she finds nothing. Carefully circumventing a pile of jagged glass, Felix steps forward and plucks the wand from the back of Juniper's hair. He offers it to her, failing to keep amusement from his eyes and mouth. Juniper snatches it from him, face flushed with shame or anger, he isn't sure which.

"You seem...bothered," Felix comments, taking care not to smile.

"It's just... been a long morning." Juniper rubs the bridge of her nose and sighs deeply. "People've been in and out since I got in. Half of them want things I don't have and get pissed when I don't have it, like they thought I would show up with an endless supply of potions in tow? And then the other half don't even need anything, they just want to ask me questions about the Cursed Vaults or my brother or whether I'm currently seeing anyone!" She wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Like that's the first thing I'm thinking about! It's my first day at my first job, I've not had time to change or eat or use the bloody toilet, but yes, let me choose a dinner companion."

Felix's tightly coiled tension unwinds, and for the first time that morning he's able to relax. A distant part of him registers guilt that he wasn't there to help make Juniper's arrival more hospitable, but that can be easily improved, now he's confident none of the dragonologists will be winning the betting pool anytime soon.

"Has no one showed you around yet?"

Juniper shakes her head. "No. Guivré had some bloke take my things from me at the gate and then led me straight here."

"Well then," Felix relieves Juniper of her roll of parchment and gestures to the door. "Let me give you the grand tour."

"What?" Juniper meets his eyes, and Felix wonders if he's imagining wariness in them. "That's - really ok. I'm sure you've got loads to do, and I should probably stay and sort through this mess."

"It's been sitting like this for nearly a year, it'll wait another few hours," Felix assures her. When she continues to look uncertain, he adds wryly, "What kind of gentleman would I be if I let your first day here be all misery?" And with mock solemnity, Felix offers Juniper his arm.

Juniper blinks. The harassed expression fades, and her eyes twinkle with something more like her usual humour.

"I thought you were a dragonologist now, not a gentleman."

"They're not mutually exclusive."

Felix winks, and a familiar smile spreads slowly up the side of Juniper's face.

"Very well," she replies, taking his arm with excessive ceremony. "Lead on."

* * *

Their first stop is the Post Office, where Juniper confirms her owl is settled and is able to send off her list of necessary ingredients to Diagon Alley. Then a short perambulation around the cul-de-sac allows Felix to point out the shop, the pub, and the mess.

"There's three meals a day offered there. It's all free, but it tastes it. I recommend the pub whenever possible."

Juniper's head swivels about following Felix's finger as he names each building.

"Is this it then?" she asks as he leads her onto the path leading to the dragon habitats.

"Yes, apart from the flats. They're on the opposite side of the village."

"Five buildings constitutes a village?"

"You were expecting Hogsmeade?"

"No, not exactly. I guess I just thought...I don't know... that it'd be bigger. Isn't it the largest dragon sanctuary in the world?"

"Yes, it is. The largest _dragon _sanctuary not dragonologist sanctuary. Most of the land is dedicated to the dragon habitats. There's at least two of every known dragon species living here, and they each need several leagues of land to be comfortable and to safely kept from each other. Dragons don't play well together."

"I see," Juniper says, nodding absently. She's fallen a bit behind Felix, constantly turning side to side to take in the scenery.

"It's beautiful here," she observes and Felix feels as puffed with pride as though he had cultivated the landscape himself.

"Yes," he agrees. "There's a bit of everything here. Terrain to suit each dragon. Over that way's the mountain where they keep the Longhorns and the Shortsnouts. And the valley on the other side are for the Opaleyes. There's even an enormous lake for the Ridgeback."

"Where do the Peruvian Viperteeth live?" asks Juniper eagerly.

"Vipertooths is the appropriate plural," Felix corrects. "And our habitat's just up the path there. It's hills mostly, with a small wooded area. They tried to cultivate a miniature jungle there, but whoever was responsible for it had never actually seen a jungle before so it's really just an eclectic forest."

"Can I see them?" The bubbling excitement in Juniper's voice is too much for Felix to maintain his staid self-control, and he laughs. He can't remember the last time he laughed like this, warm and full and real.

"Where do you think I'm taking you?"

The prospect of seeing dragons lends speed to Juniper's feet until she's practically skipping next to a still-chuckling Felix. They turn off the path, and Felix leads the way to the hidden paddock.

Juniper's face is pressed nearly flat against the window, as she searches every directions for a sign of a bronze dragon.

"She's bound to come back this way soon," Felix reassures. "There's more tree cover over here and she prefers to stay in the shade once it's gets too warm in the afternoons."

They stand together quietly for a moment watching the treeline, so close their shoulders almost touch. Each time Juniper turns her head, the smell of lavender and that other scent Felix can never identify wafts toward him. Something hot kindles to life in his lower abdomen but before it can become too distracting Juniper's curiousity comes to the rescue.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," says Felix in relief.

"What is it you actually do? I mean... in Peru you were running around chasing dragons, stopping them from eating people and everything, and I assume you're not doing that anymore. So, what _do_ you do here?"

The question confuses Felix at first, until he remembers how little they've communicated in the last year. He adopts the old self-assured voice he always used when tutoring younger students.

"Well, there's two resident dragonologists to each dragon breed, and we're responsible for their upkeep: feeding them, keeping them healthy, preventing them from escaping. We get a team of assistants but that changes regularly, everything pretty much falls to us. We take notes about their behaviour and write down basically everything that happens with them each day and keep it on file so other dragonologists and magizoologists can use it for research. We've also nearly always got some sort of researcher that needs access to the dragons for a paper or experiement or whatnot and they want looking after and questions answered. It's quite a bit more paperwork than being a dragonologist in the field."

"Interesting," murmurs Juniper, now watching Felix instead of the window.

"Really?" he asks, cursing the hated blush that colours his cheeks.

"Of course. You never really think about that side of it, do you? That being a Dragonologist is more than just stunning spells and dodging flame. Most people think-"

A rush of whistling wind interrupts Juniper before she can explain what most people think, and she turns to the window eagerly.

"Look up," Felix tells her. Juniper's nose hits the glass as she cranes her neck to watch the copper-coloured dragon descend at a breathtaking pace onto the sloping hill in front of them. Felix spares a quick glance at the dragon to determine which it is before returning his gaze to Juniper, watching with satisfaction as her mouth falls slightly open.

"It's gorgeous," she breathes, hands now pressed against the window beside her face, as if she might feel the warm scales through the enchanted glass.

"She."

"_She_?"

Felix nods. "That's a female. You can tell by the small ridge of spikes around her eyes. I caught her terrorizing a little village near the Pacaya-Samiria reserve."

"_You_ caught her?" Juniper asks in awed disbelief.

"Well, my team and I."

Outside the paddock, the sparkling dragon stretches her wings leisurely and wriggles her long snake-like body from snout to tail as if shaking off dust. She slithers regally toward the tangled trees near the paddock, and wraps herself around a large trunk.

"Can we go see her?' Juniper asks eagerly.

"Not unless you'd like to lose a limb. I'm afraid Gen's particularly bloodthirsty."

"Her name's Gen?"

"It's short for Genièvre."

"Where does that come from?" asks Juniper curiously, but before Felix has to think up a suitable excuse, movement registers out of the corner of his eye.

He and Juniper both turn to inspect the small group of wizards now trotting down the hill from the direction the dragon had come. Felix recognizes Rashbold leading a team of assistants, each dragging bulky sacks behind them. He's about to explain the glamourous world of the Reserve's dragon dung trade when Juniper cries, "Charlie!" and waves frantically at one of the sack-laden assistants. All Felix's high spirits deflate as he recognises the flaming hair.

"He can't hear you," he tells her brusquely. "The glass is enchanted. We can see out but they can't see in."

"Oh, too bad. I hope his first day's better than mine."

Felix retreats to the back of the paddock and leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching Juniper watch Charlie cart his sack down the hill toward the habitat's entrance. From here it doesn't look like the Weasley boy has changed much in appearance. He's still quite short, Felix's notes with a savage pleasure, but there's no denying he's exceptionally well-built for his size. First Barnaby, now Weasley; Juniper clearly has a type.

"So," asks Felix unsure whether it's courage or weakness that prompts the question. "You and Charlie are..."

When he can't complete his sentence, Juniper turns curiously. "Are what?"

Felix can feel his face heat and looks down, feigning interest in the tops of his boots. "Together?"

"What, you mean like _together_ together?" Juniper giggles, a gossiping school-girl sort of sound. "No, of course not."

The answer is entirely unexpected. Hope flickers to life inside Felix like a candle flame, but he refuses to let it warm him.

"Really?" he replies skeptically. "You just came here together by coincidence, then?"

"Well, no it's not exactly a coincidence. I mean, we're friends. Well, the sort of friends that when Charlie found out where I'd applied he threatened to jinx me if I didn't ask about a job for him as well."

"Sounds like he really wanted to work with you," presses Felix, and Juniper laughs again, a comfortable laugh as if he'd told an old favorite joke.

"You clearly don't know Charlie," she says between chuckles. Catching sight of Felix's flat expression, Juniper calms herself enough to explain. "Look, you know how some guys like girls and some guys like guys? Well, Charlie just likes dragons. That's all he ever thinks about, every day, all the time. That's why we got to be such good friends, actually. All our other friends got to be obsessed with dating and _romance_ and for a while it was like you couldn't ever hang out with anyone without wondering if they really liked you or wanted to secretly date you or something. It was exhausting. But with Charlie I never had to worry about that and he never had to worry about that with me, so we could just study in peace."

It's as though the storm clouds over Felix's head have parted and the sun is shining on him fully for the first time in months. He feels lighter than air, and his breathing is full and easy. A weight has been lifted off his chest he didn't know he'd been carrying. Too late, he realises he's grinning and he can't switch it off. Juniper's notices as well.

"What's so funny?" she asks, mirroring his smile automatically.

Felix ignores her question. Instead, he grabs her hand, pulling her away from the window and toward the exit. Joy has gifted him a brilliant idea, and he can't wait even a second to put it into action.

"There's something I want you to see."

* * *

"Are we nearly there?"

Nearly."

That's what you said twenty minutes ago," Juniper grumbles, but Felix can hear the laughter in it.

And it was true then, too." Felix races down the winding path that leads to the deeper dragon habitats, Juniper in tow. When the trees disappear entirely and the hills grow higher and sharper, he speeds up.

Felix, come on, my legs are killing me."

It's just up this hill, I promise." His grin feels like it might sprout wings and fly off his face and Juniper can't help but laugh at it as she clambers up the hill behind him.

"Merlin's Beard, Felix, this had better be worth-"

Juniper stops abruptly as she reaches the hill top. She stares down at the other side, eyes very wide.

Is that..."

Yes," says Felix softly. Juniper presses a hand tightly to her mouth.

Below them, a dragon trots gaily across the grass chasing what appears from the colour to be an enchanted quaffle. A wizard nearby directs the progress of the ball with his wand, and the large green dragon follows it closely. Every few paces, it leaps into the air, catching wind under it's right wing and gliding forward to snap long white fangs at the ball before landing back onto the ground gracefully. It tosses its emerald head and emits a musical snort like a trumpet call.

"Sparky..." Juniper's voice is thick and wet, and Felix realises with an ebb of his high-spirits that tears are streaming down her face.

"Are you crying?" The question tumbles from him as soon as he thinks it, before he can register how stupid it sounds. It's obvious she's crying, what isn't obvious is why. And though Felix casts around frantically for a reason, he can't come up with anything that makes sense.

"Yes," Juniper replies wiping roughly at her eyes with her sleeve. "Sorry. It happens a lot more now than it used to."

"But what...what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong...I promise. I'm just..." A choked sob prevents any more coherent explanation. Felix can only stand helplessly while Juniper sobs loudly into her hands, Sparky still prancing below them.

"I'm sorry," Felix offers, though the words feel wholly inadequate and he isn't even sure what he ought to be sorry for. "I thought you'd like to see him."

Juniper shakes her head quickly, trying to speak through her tears. "I would...I mean, I do. It's wonderful. It's just.." She sniffs loudly. "I don't know, I just can't believe...that I'm here. I'm really here."

"What do you mean?" asks Felix cautiously.

"I mean, _here_. At the Romanian Reserve. I always wanted to come here and...visit Sparky one day. But I never thought... I mean...I never really thought I'd get out of school alive, you know? I didn't think...I'd make it.." Juniper looks down at Sparky once more. "But I did...I'm here. It's over and...I can't believe it."

It's as though the last year has never occurred. The final vestiges of Felix's twisted anger and resentment and confusion shrink to nothing. All he can feel is the same familiar, overwhelming love for Juniper he remembers, and that primal desire to make anything hurting her disappear.

"Come here." Felix wraps his arms around Juniper's shaking shoulders and lets her bury her wet face against his chest. He holds her to him delicately, unable to keep from savouring the feeling of her body pressed against his once more. "You did make it. It's all over now." Felix strokes her windswept hair softly. "And things are going to be so much better from now on. I promise."


	11. NOTE

Yes, it's the dreaded author's note and not the next chapter. I apologise for that, and for taking such a long time to update. Karma has caught up with me for how awful I've been to Felix and Juniper, and I've been suffering through a really horrid heartbreak of my own that's made writing difficult.

I promise this story is not on hiatus, and I'll have the next chapter up by next week. In the meantime, if you've enjoyed this story and have a minute, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it; what you like about it, what's kept your interest so far, anything really. I'm hoping some outside perspective will help me get my momentum back.

Thanks for your understanding and support!

JW


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